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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864098">« A coffee, maybe ? » - [MCYT - DreamNotFound / Sleepy Bois Inc.]</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymphiou/pseuds/Nymphiou'>Nymphiou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP (Fandom), Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternative Universe - Dictatorship, Character Death, Dead People, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Karlnapity, L'Manburg VS Pogtopia, M/M, No Smut, Skephalo, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Slow Romance, Twins Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, dreamnotfound, inspired by Half Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:41:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>27,884</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28864098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nymphiou/pseuds/Nymphiou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dream grabbed George by the collar of his hoodie, the smaller man's face facing the smiling ceramic mask of the younger man.<br/>With his other hand, the mask in question was lifted slightly, revealing Dream's chapped lips, George couldn't help but look at them.</p><p>"Do you think your mouth still tastes like our favorite coffee?" Dream asked without even hesitating.</p><p>The colorblind man couldn't help but flinch, holding back a laugh so as not to be caught by the night shift militiamen patrolling, the street being far too dark to find them. They didn't want to die. Not now.</p><p>"Who knows?" he smirked with amusement, his cheeks flushed with the cold of the night. His eyes glistened with envy. "You have to try to find out the answer, right?"</p><p>= = = = = = = = = = </p><p>"You know I only want happiness for you, kids. You have to make the right decisions to accomplish your dreams. You know that, right?"</p><p>Tommy wouldn't let go of his hand, holding it close to his cheek, his eyes full of tears. Wilbur and Technoblade exchanged a look, different than usual. Like brothers, not enemies on different sides.</p><p>"You're coming with us, Dadza. We'll never leave family behind. You are part of our dreams."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound &amp; Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The snow are white and red.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>- Dream and George are certainly cool with being shipped, allowing us to write about them (or draw them together), but from the moment they come to say they are uncomfortable with this, everything will be erased from my account if they ask for it, in addition to stopping writing about this couple, out of respect for them above all. And it's the same for everyone!</p><p>They each have their own life, so don't force them into these ship stories.<br/>I ship above all their Personas and not their real person in real life! Everything is fictional and absolutely not real.</p><p>Have a good read ! (and sorry for the small mistakes, english is not my first language !)</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Children will always have a part of innocence that makes them adorable.<br/>But once they realize what's happening...it hits them hard. And it hurts.<br/>Because children don't deserve to go through moments like this.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The snowflakes had fun to falling from the sky, dancing in symphony, seeming to shine in this landscape made of gray to bring its little white and brilliant touch. Winter was getting rough, as it does every year, the sky was having fun to tease us, to make fun of us.<br/>
It went from simple snowflakes, to the storm, to the addition of the thick hail that could fall in these places, sometimes, to the great displeasure of all...</p>
<p>From his window frozen by the cold, a little boy with blond hair with brown reflections, quite young, not even over ten years old, was observing the landscape outside, that of his street.</p>
<p>The snow was so beautiful...but his parents wouldn't let him go out to have fun when the weather was cold. It was a pity, he would have liked to play with the other children of the city, outside - although he couldn't see that any child was outside - throwing snowballs, making snowmen out of snow, walking on this cold and changeable ground that showed all the traces of his footsteps, every movement he could make, letting himself fall in and waving his arms up and down, his legs from right to left to create a snow angel at the ground level, again...<br/>
The little boy had only been allowed to do this one time, having either been sick before, or punished, or because it was too cold because of the storms, and without even hesitating, he could even say that it had been the happiest day of his life, for the child that he was.</p>
<p>Without realizing it, he puffed up his cheeks, watching the snowflakes coming to his window for melting, following with his little forefinger the trace of water that gently traced its way down, as if to escape from that piece of glass that had killed him and its soft coldness, its sweet shape...<br/>
The smile he had on his face at such a futile thing disappeared, however, when the wooden door of his little house was knocked open, a sign that someone was knocking at the door.</p>
<p>
  <strong>[It was them, again.]</strong>
</p>
<p>Stepping down from the chair where he was standing, Clay watched his mother open the door to these unidentified men in suits, who looked like the men who were giving the armed soldiers a nasty - but discreet - glance when they made their patrols around the city.<br/>
Like a well-behaved little boy, the young blond boy approached these men, hands behind his back, coming to greet them with a small smile on his face. Shy.<br/>
One of the men, who had a rather comical mustache on his face, under his nose, sneered, coming to pat him on the head, greeting him in turn, although he took his seriousness just as quickly, as if nothing had happened.</p>
<p>"<em>A coffee maybe?</em>" had suggested his father, also in uniform, as everyone sat down at the table, each with a dark look on their face.</p>
<p>"<em>Clay, go upstairs to your room, honey.</em>" finally let his mother with a strange expression on her face, coming towards her son to force him to turn away from the table and take the stairs and the door to his makeshift room: he did it quickly, remaining silent, even though his curious child's soul was itching.</p>
<p>The little boy stayed in his room and decided to work on his writing and reading, being a rather serious child. He went to school with the children of the city and he loved it very much. It was fun, interesting, the teacher was really nice to them. Clay loved to learn.<br/>
But in spite of his occupation, his ears could not turn away from the discussion taking place behind the oak door of his small room. He heard murmurs he could not understand, complicated words, sudden angry exclamations...</p>
<p>A startle caught him when steps were taken, followed by other grunts that could literally be linked to anger, annoyance and...disappointment?<br/>
Another, more violent startle took him when the front door was slammed shut, and after a moment, Clay heard his mother call him, the youngest child in the family coming to join her.<br/>
One thing he noticed from his little gaze when he looked at the dining table.<br/>
Empty coffee cups, papers scattered on a map, a dagger stuck in the table...interesting. Confusing for a child like him.<br/>
Clay also noticed that his mom was alone, with no one but himself, in their little house.<br/>
Where was his Dad ? Was he with those men?</p>
<p>"<em>I'm going to take you to a friend's house for a few hours.</em>" said the mother, smiling and telling him to put on his shoes and jacket. "<em>…Mommy is going to do some shopping and I don't want to leave you alone so you can have fun with your friend.</em></p>
<p>- <em>Oh !</em>" said the little one in a very pretty onomatopoeia, as his eyes sparkled when he put on his shoes. "<em>I'm allowed to go play with George?!</em>”</p>
<p>A laugh was heard by his mom as the two of them, once ready, left the house, Clay already having fun whispering his breath to make steam with his mouth, little jumps in the snow, taking advantage of those few minutes of walking outside before finding himself on the landing of another house, in a much better place than his own, if we pay attention to details...</p>
<p>"<em>I leave him in your hands, Maria.</em>” smiled her mother, observing another lady who had opened the door for them. "<em>I'll come back for it... when I'm done.</em>“</p>
<p>The little boy does not care about the discussion between the two adult women, entering the house without even losing a second, coming to observe around him, quick as lightning, seeming to be looking for someone...</p>
<p>"<em>George !</em>" cried the one with dark blond hair, when he saw a small figure coming down the stairs, running towards him to jump on him and give him a hug.</p>
<p>"<em>C-clay! You're putting snow everywhere!</em>” said the second person who seemed to be named George. "<em>You're so cold!</em>”</p>
<p>George had walked away from his friend, although he would have laughed when he saw the little one's red cheeks, realizing that he had suffered very well from the cold outside. Clay was really a kid, sometimes, although for him it was normal, being three years older than he was...</p>
<p>"<em>I was able to touch the snow! It's so pretty!</em></p>
<p>- <em>You can play in the garden, if you like.</em>” Maria smiled when she came back to the two young people with a large suitcase in her hands, which George soon noticed, his caramel brown eyes staring at the object in question. It looked heavy.<br/>
...She didn't have that before she opened the door of the house to greet Clay and his mom, did she?</p>
<p>"<em>Mom, you-</em>" wanted to say the oldest, before his mother stopped him immediately.</p>
<p>"<em>Oh, don't worry George, I'll make something warm to eat later, so you won't get sick! Go get ready and don't forget to put on a scarf and gloves!</em></p>
<p>- <em>... fine.</em>”</p>
<p>At first suspicious, the brown-haired man finally prepared himself in a hurry, not wanting to keep his young friend waiting, so the two of them went outside to build a snowman, laughing a little when Clay got snow on his back by mistake, smiling when he saw him enjoying the snowflakes so much, almost dancing with them...</p>
<p>In the house, Maria watched the two young children as she prepared dinner in silence.<br/>
But her frenetic glances at Clay, did not leave her son indifferent, who kept noticing him. She watched over him, she watched over him much, so much more than usual when the little one came to their home.<br/>
The suitcase that his mother was holding made him pensive, his behavior made him pensive again and, unfortunately for him, his age and being a child did not help him, seeming lost, although puzzled, although curious about what was happening.<br/>
Mutely, he felt that a message had gotten through. A message of request, of need, of something most important between the two mothers, previously.</p>
<p>
  <strong>To make Clay smile for as long as possible.</strong>
</p>
<p>Why? The one with the white and black glasses on his head was wondering, to tell the truth.<br/>
But a snowball had the gift of making him forget all his thoughts, putting everything on his side, in order to have fun with the young child who dared to be his little clever one, just for having managed to touch him in the face. A strike.<br/>
Then he went to take revenge, ready to make the dirty-blond kid “eat” the snow, his mind gently sealing the information he had, without forgetting one thing, that he had to do at all costs.<br/>
Just to make his young and tender friend smile for as long as possible.</p>
<p>"<em>You know...</em>”</p>
<p>
  <strong>But was it really possible?</strong>
</p>
<p>"<em>One day, the first administrator of the city had said: ‘Traitors are those who do not realize how <strong>lucky</strong> they are’.</em>”</p>
<p>A cold sweat ran down his back, a shiver coming from the cold outside, squeezing his hand, one of which was holding Clay's shaky little hand…</p>
<p>"<em>I had always known, me and all my predecessors...that he was right. A city, our city, where the life leads a quiet, peaceful, calm course, where each one can have a quiet life if one gives oneself the effort and the means...</em>”</p>
<p>The man who pronounced these words, with a strong but above all imposing voice, observed from his place, the inhabitants of this dear closed city which he adored so much.</p>
<p>"<em>The militia, we, members, guardians of this city... are nevertheless there to protect you!</em>”</p>
<p>This one seemed to mark each of his words in everyone's mind, his hand movements making him more than powerful in his words, everyone observing him...</p>
<p>"<em>Why have fun fighting like some people do when you are lucky enough to have the life you can dream of?</em>”</p>
<p>Clay hiccuped when the administrator, in his white armor, looked at him with a smile on his face that scared him to death...and turned his face towards the thing that stood on the podium in the square.<br/>
Or rather, the person who was there.<br/>
“Mummy'' would have wanted to shout out the young child, but did not do so in spite of the strong desire, in vain.<br/>
He stood there, holding back from taking a step backwards because of the warm hand that George had tied with his own, stuck by what he saw, by seeing his mother tied to a pole, her head down, looking defeatist?</p>
<p><em>"I will never understand, never understand why idiots are standing against us when they all know they will never have a chance.</em>”</p>
<p>Behind her, around her, other bodies could be seen, although these were on the ground, inert, bathed in what Clay, at her young age, might call "tomato sauce".<br/>
But the eyes of the people lying on the ground were so empty, their skin was so blue from the cold, so motionless, seeing one of them move even a little finger, or even a little mist coming out of their mouths as they breathed....<br/>
Why wasn't Dad moving on the floor? Why weren't the men he had seen earlier moving too? The floor was cold, wasn't it?<br/>
...Was it really tomato sauce?</p>
<p>"<em>Today, in our beautiful city of L'Manburg...we are suffering the loss of people who could have had a future, a peaceful life if they hadn't dared to betray us. Betraying me, the members of the militia, you, my dear and tender citizens....</em>”</p>
<p>No.<br/>
Why would Clay dare to think this? Why would he dare to say this to himself?<br/>
He knew it no, his trembling body knew it, his heart that was beating so fast under stress knew it, the look of fear that George or Maria had as they watched this disaster showed everything, all the reality that there was!</p>
<p>How could he dare to tell himself that it wasn't blood!? He knows it!<br/>
He..</p>
<p>"<em>Hoping that their descendants, if they even existed...will learn not to make the same mistake.</em>”</p>
<p>A loud noise had struck the silence in which everyone was locked, while a man in black armor and with pink hair - which could be slightly seen in spite of his helmet - had the weapon in his hand, raised, towards the woman who, at present, no longer even had a face under the bloody impact that she had just received from an overly powerful cannon...<br/>
They were all dead, all in front of Clay's eyes.</p>
<p>Clay, whose face as pale as death itself, his sparkling eyes becoming nothing more than an illusion, replaced by a most frightening emptiness, had simply lost his smile.</p>
<p>
  <strong>His beautiful smile.</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The little smile of the mask that replaces the real one.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Ten years later, Clay's hatred led him to take risks...big risks.<br/>But despite this, George will always be at his side, even on opposite camps.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The cold of Winter was tickle his nose which became redder as time went by.<br/>
His walk was slow, taking his time, his eyes admiring every thing, every detail that showed itself to his eyes. Every street, every passer-by, every texture...his hand rested on a wall as he continued his walk, following it. The Wall. A thick wall that separated him from the outside.<br/>
The City of L’Manburg was a closed city, a place ruled by an army that crushed the inhabitants by their powers. A total dictatorship.<br/>
It was exhausting.<br/>
And that earned a sigh that crossed the chapped lips of this young man as he withdrew his hand from this thick but painful wall to put his hand back in the pocket of his hoodie.<br/>
Finally, after long and unpleasant minutes of walking, the man turned a corner when he saw some militiamen in the distance, at the end of the road, carrying out checks and searches on them, making him mutely insult him. Another sigh crossed his person when he thought he had no choice but to pass, as he put his hand on his face.</p>
<p>At least, what was supposed to be his face.</p>
<p>Silently, he removed the thing that was placed on his face, a mask, simple, decorated with two eyes and a simple smile, which could be both warm and frightening, leaving instead the face of a young man with emerald eyes, with a basic complexion, a man's face finally drawn, in addition to some small clear traces of freckles present on it, giving it a certain style.</p>
<p>The only thing missing to name him as a charming being, is a smile on his face. A simple and real smile.<br/>
Something that wasn't going to happen yet, to be honest.</p>
<p>And finally coming out of what could be called a hiding place, putting his mask behind his head, his hood up, hiding it, knowing that revealing his face was enough...Clay approached these concerned militiamen who noticed him directly, one of them with a cold look meeting his own, coming to shiver.<br/>
His black armor, showing that he was one of the superiors, his light pink wicks that could be seen falling, the helmet not hiding everything...<em><strong>it was him</strong></em>.</p>
<p>"<em>Against the wall, right now.</em>”</p>
<p>Of course, obedient as all things, not having the choice to do so, especially in front of such an analytical look from the other, Clay positioned himself against the wall, his body turned towards the structure, allowing the others to search him.</p>
<p>"<em>His wallet, an apple...this man has nothing strange Superior Technoblade!</em>” had done the man who had the honor of searching him, Clay noticing that his movements seemed hesitant. “Probably a new recruit," he allowed himself to think, knowing full well that this was it.</p>
<p>"<em>...fine, you can move on, citizen.</em>" said the one in black armor, seeming almost annoyed, without anyone knowing why - although with him, this kind of reaction did not surprise anyone, as if it were usual - before he began to look at his colleagues. A recruit and two militiamen.</p>
<p>"<em>Punz, Nihachu, take care of Tubbo's recruit training for now, I have a report to make to the Nexus. Patrol in the Public and Main Areas, in addition to commercial and residential areas with the other group. You will give me a summary report when I get back to you.</em><br/>
- <em>Yes Sir!</em>” The militiamen responded to their Superior, Clay looking at the recruit, thinking that by being so insecure, he was clearly not going to last long in his training. “Tubbo'' huh... what a strange code name for a new militiaman. He wondered what his real name was.<br/>
He watched everyone leave, not without looking at the one who was called Technoblade, their eyes for a moment as everyone went back to their chosen direction.</p>
<p>
  <strong>How could such a “young” man become such an asshole by joining them?</strong>
</p>
<p>It was something that questioned him well, to tell the truth.</p>
<p>But he didn't, waiting until he was out of sight of those who patrolled to let out yet another sigh, disturbed, resuming his walk as if nothing had happened, not without putting his mask back on when he crossed a new alleyway, much less lit than everything else by the city's lampposts, coming, after a moment, to push a door of a small building, revealing a place that instinctively warmed his heart.<br/>
This place seemed to be a simple bar, to tell the truth. Rather rustic, old-fashioned, but which delighted anyone who came here. The ambient light was subdued, a little dark, not revealing the whole place at first glance, some corners remaining darker than others.<br/>
Everything was mainly made of wood, from the walls, to the parquet floor, to the tables and chairs, to the counter...<br/>
The mask back on his face, having put it back on before entering, the man with the smiling mask walked inside, silent, happy that no one dared to look at him or even greet him.<br/>
Silently, he went to the back of the small bar to settle down, his silhouette half hidden by the shadow, while he thanked the manager mutely when he received a red and steaming cup on his table, already enjoying the smell of coffee coming to his nostrils, cherishing that smell more than anything else.<br/>
Clay, or at least the character in the strange mask, would have waited a little while before hearing the bell of the bar door ringing in a fluent and almost appreciable sound, letting in a thin silhouette that was wrapped in a coat and scarf, this one mumbling a slight hello to the present world, although shy, not wasting a second to move forward in this place, letting a few seconds pass, and then …</p>
<p>"<em>Good evening, Dream. It's been a long time.</em>”</p>
<p>‘’Dream'' raised his head to the man in front of him, who was also being served coffee in a blue cup, while he took advantage of the darkness to remove his mask and put it on the table.<br/>
And also because he couldn't drink his hot drink if he couldn't bring it to his lips, anyway.</p>
<p>"<em>Good evening, George. It's been a while...well, as always.</em></p>
<p>- <em>Like every week, you always tell me this, you know.</em>” he smiled gently back, as, without even waiting a moment, he took his cup in his hands, almost purring at the heat from the steaming drink, totally ravishing him. "<em>The weather has been horrible to endure lately. I feel sorry for those who can't always keep warm, or who don't even have a place to live…</em></p>
<p>- <em>You should think of yourself before others, your kindness will kill you Georgie.</em>” confessed Dream with a small laugh. "<em>How was your week? I noticed that this year's militia recruiting has just finished. How did it go?</em></p>
<p>- <em>I start next week. Commander Eret is quite reluctant to accept anyone who doesn't have perfect eyesight in his ranks...but it seems to be going well, I guess.</em></p>
<p>- <em>What an asshole this one is too...</em>” grumbled the one who seemed to be the taller of the two as he started to drink from his red cup. "<em>It's not your fault that you have protanopia. Color blindness can happen to anyone.</em></p>
<p>- <em>Yes, that's why I'm still being trained, so that I can stay and see if I'm fit to join the ranks....</em>"</p>
<p>A slight silence fell between the two men, before Clay speaks again, seeming little reassured, but..</p>
<p>"<em>...Do you really still want to join the militia after the horrors they dared to commit?</em></p>
<p>- <em>Cl-..well, Dream...</em>” tempted George, coming to look at him with his dark caramel-colored eyes. "<em>I've already told you that I'm doing this not out of envy but out of principle..I'm-</em></p>
<p>- <em>You are the grandson of the former city administrator and you must follow in his footsteps, I know, I know.</em>”</p>
<p>This seemed to annoy him, and although he clearly couldn't blame his best friend, since it wasn't really his fault, just the thought of seeing him join the ranks of these tyrants was already making him feel.. sad ? Maybe ?</p>
<p>"<em>Rather than talking about the whole militia thing... how are things going on your side? I still feel so guilty that I can't help you.</em></p>
<p>- <em>Please, George, you know very well that you would have already died just by trying to help me. You're already risking jail for talking to me, for the moment, from the moment things start.</em></p>
<p>-<em>...did you manage to insert Dream in the city? They speak about you in the newspaper, the rumors start to run, you know.</em>”</p>
<p>A Dream laugh was heard, as if this question had an obvious answer.</p>
<p>"<em>There's Clay, the guy who lives alone in his apartment and only goes out a few times a month...and there's Dream, the smiling shadow that walks around like a ghost no one can find~</em></p>
<p>- <em>I am still wondering how you manage not to get caught or even suspected.</em>” The one with the short but thick brown hair giggle gently, laying a hand near his fly to stifle a possible laugh. "<em>But it reassures me that you can't be linked to him...you're less likely to be suspected.</em></p>
<p>- <em>Hmm...I feel like Technoblade is on its guard right now, much more than usual. Searches have doubled in frequency on top of that, it's complicated when you have something illegal on you and you don't want to get caught, even if it's not to do something bad.</em></p>
<p>- <em>...I doubt that having a sword or a weapon on you is really something that is not meant to be bad. But you don't need one right now anyway, do you?</em></p>
<p>- <em>Uh, uh, I guess not.</em>” continued the green-eyed one. "<em>I'm building the rest of my alibi, Wilbur told me he'd take care of the rest.</em></p>
<p>- <em>...It's going to be weird not to see you in the city anymore. I really wonder how this Wilbur manages to get in and out of L'Manburg without getting caught…it's so weird.</em></p>
<p>- <em>The experience since he became a Resistance fighter, I guess..?</em>” he said. "<em>Don't worry, I'll always come back here to see you and me. Once a month? Although, it's already too long a month being away from you, Gogy~</em></p>
<p>- <em>Oh my God Clay...</em>" sighed the smaller, jaded one. "<em>Once a month suits me fine, it's okay for me. The important thing is that you protect yourself... every entry and exit in the city can be life-threatening after all, you know that.</em></p>
<p>- <em>I would stay alive just for the coffee of this place and to see your beautiful face~</em>"</p>
<p>George sighed at the answer of the younger one, rolling his eyes, having expected it, although the dewy tint on his cheeks could not be prevented. He was always doing this.</p>
<p>"<em>Come back to me alive, you'd better be all right.</em></p>
<p>- <em>And you, you'd better climb the ladder to become an administrator and change things.</em></p>
<p>- <em>Wha- h-hey! I'll be here for at least thirty years! Even Techno is still only superior even though he joined the militia more than twenty years ago! And even then, he rose very quickly through the ranks, he was already Superior when we were just kids and...</em>"</p>
<p>He doesn't finish his sentence, both of them knowing all the same what could have been said, Dream coming to look at his coffee cup, now empty because of their discussion.</p>
<p>"<em>...Just don't become like them, then.</em></p>
<p>- <em>Just talking to you proves that I'm not like them, since I won't have to say anything about you~</em>"</p>
<p>The two young adults looked at each other for a moment, before each of them started to puff, the atmosphere between them being soft, calm, even warmer than the place in which they were.</p>
<p>Slowly, time passed, the two friends could not tell how long they had been here, talking to each other again and again, cups of coffee accumulating, the discussion becoming active, about them, their days, their memories...<br/>
But when everyone knew that the end was approaching...it was in silence that the two came to their feet, leaving their money on the table to pay for their drinks, and made their way out, the cold outside hitting them almost immediately as they began to walk together, side by side.<br/>
The streets were still a little lively, the night was getting more and more present, the night lights having already come on as soon as the winter sun had dared to hide behind the wall, the snow falling gently, as well as the wind which remained calm for that evening.<br/>
In the silence, except for their footsteps resonating on the ground because of the white powder, Clay and George took advantage of this moment to simply enjoy each other's company while they went home.<br/>
But suddenly everything turned black.<br/>
The lights of the city suddenly went out and George was startled, surprised, and hadn't expected it at all. A sabotage of the central generator? An escape attempt in the middle of the night? That was suicide!<br/>
Without even looking for it, his hand reached out to whoever was next to him, to grab his sweater, preferring to feel in contact with someone…</p>
<p>But George touched only the void, quickly turning his gaze to where his best friend was supposed to be…</p>
<p>"<em>Clay...?</em> "tempted the smallest, gently realizing what had just happened, his hand falling down near him, while he resumed his walk in the dark, eyes down, ignoring the race of militiamen who were making towards the generator of the city or towards the possible exits of the city: The main gate and the sewer square in the central square, which was the only other way out of L’Manburg -well, according to what Clay had told him, of course-, ignoring the words that people had just fled, knowing one of them already well. ..<br/>
In a sigh, without even a word, George finally returned home, a small apartment in the wealthy neighborhoods he had thanks to his social class, taking off his jacket, his scarf, his shoes...and going to lie in bed, without even a word, closing his eyes, strongly, shaking his hand on the comforter he had covered himself with, praying softly for the safety of the one who had left without even a goodbye.</p>
<p>
  <strong>[Tomorrow was another day.]</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Father and his sons.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Technoblade was exhausted. Sometimes he got really tired of everything he did.<br/>And his family wasn't helping, to tell you the truth.</p><p>But he loved his family.<br/>He loved Philza, he loved Tommy.<br/>Wilbur...<br/>Just thinking about it made his head hurt.</p><p>But he would do anything for them. Even if it was to hide things and betray his duty as a militiaman.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When the generator cable was cut, causing the extinction of all the current in the city of L'Manburg...Dream had, without even a word, left his friend, coming to pass in the small streets and shortcuts that had been recommended to him, in order to arrive as quickly as possible at the trapdoor, at the level of the center of the city.<br/>
Thus, arrived near the place, the young man noticed that a recruit was all alone, to move away the citizens -curious to see the trapdoor open, intrigued by what was happening, or even eager to get out of here, each with his reasons to be here- with his taser so that nobody deigns to approach. He immediately recognized him in spite of the darkness. It was this Tubbo, this coward was abandoned here alone, waiting for the rest of the patrols to come to him as reinforcements.<br/>
“The poor man,” he could have thought.</p><p>But when he had run towards him, the young militiaman came running towards him and was startled when he took a blow from behind, by this man whose face he had wanted to see in order to identify him for his superiors....but all he did was a white mask, adorned with two eyes and a smile that seemed totally frightening to him.</p><p>A shot rang out as Technoblade, accompanied by the two militiamen from earlier, came towards the center, something that startled Dream, grunted as the shot grazed his arm, going straight down through the trapdoor without any hesitation, already running into the city sewers, recalling the plan that Wilbur had offered him to remember...</p><p>Technoblade glanced at the rookie who was getting up from the past blow, already thinking it was going to be his party.<br/>
Punz and Nihachu came to surround the trap door to prevent any further escape, while the character in black armor observed Tubbo for a moment before sighing, the lights starting to come back, the breakdown quickly resolving itself. Something that reassured them all when the exit hatch closed automatically, allowing them to search and question the citizens present on the scene.</p><p>"<em>The next time you find yourself alone with a case like this, I'll allow you to use your service weapon if it's extremely necessary.</em>" he grumbled, making it clear that it wasn't his fault that he let people get away, since he was just starting to be trained and no one was there. "<em>Go through the infirmary if you need to go to the L'Mantree -or Nexus- to make your report. And don't let me see you again before eight at morning, tomorrow.</em>“</p><p>Tubbo had no time to answer, the Superior with the soft light pink hair coming straight away, taking the paths to the entrance of the city, taking out a pass to access the inside of the walls...and at their top, to the checkpoints, allowing him to see the outside world, something that made him sigh.<br/>
The world was beautiful, the outside was beautiful, he clearly could not deny that living outside of L'Manburg would be more than tempting to see totally exciting for a person like him. But it was just the way it was, and it had to be dealt with.<br/>
So putting aside his contemplation of the world, Technoblade watched in the distance the exit of the sewers that he could see from his place with his piercing eyes. Too bad for him, he didn't have a sniper or a very long-range weapon on him, lucky for the fugitives who had just escaped...</p><p>But as he was about to go back downstairs to help his colleagues and finish his patrol, as it was getting really late, a red and orange glow appeared not far from him, a sign that a flame was coming out in the middle of the darkness.<br/>
And, accompanied by this flame, Techno clenched his fist when he saw, albeit not very instinctively, two silhouettes...one, looking as if he had no face, as if he was hiding it with something else, a hooded sweatshirt on him, not allowing him to not recognize the figure. ..and a man at his side, hardly taller, in a long and thick coat that looked like it was enough in the winter, a cap that hid a hair, a large lock that could still be recognized in front of his face, in the distance...<br/>
The young Army Superior took only a fraction of a second to recognize these two, especially one, wanting to alert his people to bring his sniper and quickly...but a huge gust of wind passed, hitting directly the flame that showed him the position of these two traitors, the flame being extinguished, only complete darkness reigning now....</p><p>The minutes had passed at breakneck speed, when finally the militiaman breathed a sigh, his breath emitting that white smoke that he observed evaporating in an instant...and he turned back, going back down to report back.</p><p>Midnight had passed. It was only around one o'clock in the morning that one could hear a door opening and closing behind it, as Technoblade had just come home to his house, sighing directly.<br/>
Slowly, as he smelled food, a sign that a makeshift meal was waiting for him, the Superior slowly came to remove his helmet, letting a simple pink-haired man, hair tied in a ponytail for the good half of it, in addition to a cold look that wandered between the color of brown and bloody red. ...and this gaze in question crossed the soft and so well known color of the green that was moving, coming to observe this figure who was sitting on a cream sofa, this man with blond hair, with sapphire eyes, the latter even coming to look at them for a moment, a soft smile being made on this character's face.</p><p>"<em>Good evening, Tech.</em>" said the character in a calm voice as he closed his book, greeting him. "<em>I made you some food. Did you have a good day?</em>“</p><p>‘Dave’ sighed, coming to run a hand through his hair as he came to undo his comforter to let his hair fall to the top of his shoulders, sighing as he approached.<br/>
Oh how he hated being called by this nickname.<br/>
Only Philza could call him like this, and he couldn't blame him.</p><p>"<em>You should be resting in your room rather than bothering yourself for me, Phil.</em></p><p>- <em>Hey, I have to do my job as a father somehow, hmm?</em></p><p>- <em>Your presence is enough for me already.</em>“</p><p>The two looked at each other for a moment before Technoblade came looking away, walking straight down a long corridor to his room, opting to change before anything else.<br/>
He had returned about ten minutes later, simply dressed in tight black pants and a shirt, his hair loose giving him a rather casual -albeit formal- style, approaching the kitchen while the man who claimed to be his father was serving them, both settling into silence.</p><p>"<em>Soooo...what's new?</em>" asked the one dressed in green, smiling at the younger of the two. "<em>I have to say that power cuts are rare at night, since all the militiamen are much more alert, if I'm not mistaken. But I'm sure you handled it well, with you to protect the city, everything always goes go-</em></p><p>- <em>You knew he was in the City, didn't you?</em>" Dave suddenly said, looking at his father, who continued to eat quietly, smiling. "<em>...You know you're supposed to warn me when you cross the path of a traitor so we can stop him.</em></p><p>- <em>That traitor is also my son, Tech, and therefore your brother. You know very well that I wouldn't do it because of that.</em>“</p><p>A punch in the table from Technoblade surprised the blonde, who didn't seem at all annoyed or upset, in fact. Just...frustrated. Very frustrated.</p><p>"<em>Will's a traitor, Phil. An enemy of the city. Are you going to realize that what you're doing is against the rules? I'm supposed to bring him back to Eret to be executed right now because I swore an oath to the city! Traitors suffer the basic death!</em>»</p><p>And again, he told himself that his father was not just anyone. He was an emblem of wisdom for many, being a kind, helpful citizen, and above all a good father to his children. He was an example and, if he was considered a traitor, he could be killed, certainly, since it happens "from the ground up"...<br/>
But the members of the high ranks could also use him to get to Will or even him....or even destroy everything, him and his family life, by erasing the .<br/>
No. That would be far too much for everyone to bear, especially their younger brother.</p><p>"<em>...I know that, Techno.</em>" sighed the older, readjusting the hat he always wore on his head. "<em>Just like I know you'll never rat me out. Just like I know you'll never be able to kill Will with your own hands. Just like I know that-</em></p><p>- <em>Stop it Phil!</em>”</p><p>A long silence was made by the two characters, each one remaining in silence. It wasn't really embarrassing. It was more... reflection, doubt.</p><p>"<em>...I know you've hated Will, ever since he first ran away, when you finally joined the militia. But you know as well as I do that you can never get rid of him. Or at least, because you'll never want to stop him.</em></p><p>- <em>...How could you let him brave the prohibitions and let him go, frankly?</em></p><p>- <em>Because I am your father.</em>" smiles the concerned one gently, rising to clear his place. "<em>And that I only want the best for my children...no matter which way you go.</em>”</p><p>The silence began again, Techno coming to sigh, finishing his meal before getting up in turn to clear away his stuff, Phil looking at him for a moment before smiling.</p><p>"<em>I know you have your reasons for being in the militia...to protect the citizens and be an example for Tommy. But don't forget that the heart dictates things and the brain and reason is just a hindrance to what you really want.</em></p><p>- <em>...stay out of it. I don't want you to see Will again if he comes around again.</em>»</p><p>Each sighed, equally exhausted by the other's behavior. But in spite of everything, father and son still appreciated each other just as much despite these small conflicts or debates, as they do now, when, preferring not to say too much, they changed the subject, opting for the best solution.</p><p>The duo came to talk about anything and everything, between the last book read by the father or the training of the recruits that Techno was doing at the moment, the state of the city, or even simply, how they were doing…</p><p>"<em>I'm going to sleep. My day will be long tomorrow.</em>” finally announced the pink-haired one as he straightened up, grumbling a few words and trifles as he passed a hand over his face, quite exhausted, knowing that they were all going to get their suspenders lifted by the Commander.</p><p>"<em>Of course they were. Get some rest, Tech.</em>” He smiled back, watching him walk away before the caller pouted, holding back from being hilarious so as not to disturb. “I really do have special children huh..sounds pog." he said, giggling a little.</p><p>With these words, he slowly got up, holding back a grimace for some reason, observing his body for a moment, a fraction of a second...and that he too go to his room, slowly, with the aim of having a good night's sleep, as he does every day, and consequently, of his routines.</p><p>The same night, two silhouettes were walking in the darkness, only their footsteps being heard because of the snow, while after a moment, when dawn dared to point the tip of his nose... </p><p>"<em>Here is Pogtopia.</em>" said the one in the long jacket, waving to him, showing him a camp. "<em>Welcome to the Resistance, Dream.</em>“</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Notes, sweet visit of a friend..and Eret.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clay loves Patches. Even more than his friends sometimes.<br/>But George was almost equal too.</p><p>Meanwhile, Technoblade felt that things were taking an unpleasant turn. Particularly with Eret. Especially when a month went by without any problems.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning of the sudden cut of the generator, the weather became clearer, more radiant, the sun coming out, its rays gently shining the City of L'Manburg through any place, and also through the window of the apartment of a small character who grumbled very quickly to be woken up in such a way.<br/>
George was the type to get up early in the morning, but sometimes hanging out in bed for a while wasn't so bad either.</p><p>Slowly, after long minutes of debating inwardly about whether he should get up right away or not, his reason took over, coming to straighten him and his body, to put his feet on the cold floor...and pass a hand over his face, not awake yet.<br/>
Without even waiting any longer, the man with the zany glasses rushed into his bathroom, coming to take a quick shower, the soft warm water that ran through his body relaxing him to the utmost, even making him smile slightly. He came out of it after about ten minutes, dressed in black jeans and a blue sweater, his favorite color, opting for his own comfort rather than tempting himself to wear suits that would be worthy of his social rank.<br/>
Breakfast was just a little fruit, a coffee, and there he was, putting on his shoes and a jacket to go out for some fresh air, not liking to stay at home, getting bored very quickly.</p><p>His pace was slow, rather quiet. An apple in his hand, eagerly biting into it to nibble on his way, gently enjoying the morning calm, although it was still cold, as Winter decided to show its superiority to the whole world.<br/>
As always, the militiamen was doing their patrols in the City, always very early, observing what might seem to be the night team in charge of watching over the city when the day's team was resting.<br/>
And he noticed it when, as he walked through the shopping alleys, already looking at the stores and wondering what he would eat later...his eyes were intrigued by a colorful store - or so he thought it was supposed to be - full of flowers, with a florist in front talking to a militiaman.<br/>
Did anything else happen? The florist was however known to be a totally adorable, kind person, and that was only to the point that some militiamen respected him more than their high-ranking officers when he dared to speak of an impressive seriousness. Even Technoblade sometimes restrained himself, although he always forced him to do so to show that he was not just anyone.</p><p>"<em>Good morning George!</em>” suddenly made the florist who greeted him with a wave of his hand, freezing him instantly, knowing that he had looked at him too much for no reason and especially in a way that could surely pass as strange, or even worse. "<em>How do you feel?</em>”</p><p>George watched him for a while before finally approaching and smiling, telling himself that a little talk never hurt.</p><p>"<em>Good morning Darryl. I'm fine if you don't count the cold, thank you.</em>"  He replied before he felt the gaze of the militiaman who had found himself staring at him, turning his head towards him...and realizing the person who was there. Dull skin, ebony hair, brown eyes? "<em>..Oh, hello Zak?</em></p><p>- <em>Skeppy, George. Skeppy. Don't call me by my real first name when I'm on duty. Who'd you think it was, really?</em>"...sulked the littlest one of them all. "<em>It's obvious that I'm the one talking to Bad!</em>”<br/>
‘’Bad'' -or Darryl especially- and Skeppy both came to roll their eyes. One desperate for the other, the other desperate for George's surprise look.</p><p>"<em>What would be the point of him being my husband if I don't talk to him? Think about it.</em>" sighed the one wearing a helmet and a simple army soldier's outfit. Skeppy was a basic militiaman of sorts with the same status. He had passed the recruit stage nine years ago, and is on his way to becoming one of the next Superiors to take Technoblade's place when the latter evolves into a Commander. He was doing a very good job despite his joking side. "<em>Well..I finished my shift, Eret was on edge all night... It was fucking tiring and annoying because nothing happened afterwards.</em></p><p>- <em>Language !</em>”</p><p>Skeppy was a member of the night team. He wasn't the type to work during the day, more the type to stay awake at night to stay active. He was a great guy.</p><p>"<em>Oh, it's true that the attack at the beginning of the night surprised everyone...it's already in the papers.</em>" Darryl then did, as he was watering his flowers at the same time. "<em>Witnesses reportedly saw the face of a former citizen who had fled...and a man wearing a mask. You know...the one called Dream, and he was walking the streets and no one knew who he was.</em></p><p>- <em>That's right.</em>" approved his lover who was moaning in borderline frustration. "<em>The day team is going to get their suspenders up, they have a meeting with the Commander in a little while.</em>”</p><p>Eret was known for his rank and social status, a man who had always been a true little prince. He had an enormous presence, bordering on a king. And he often had a good background, knew how to make the right decisions according to the situation and kept constant contact with the citizens in order to gain their trust and make them feel safe. He was a very good Commander, everyone could tell.<br/>
But he also had his faults, and when a mistake happened or the situation escaped him...he was often angry, annoyed, although it only lasted a moment...one moment was already too much. Many militiamen resigned or were killed by the pressure he could put on them, so extraordinary was that.</p><p>"<em>Hopefully everything will be okay afterwards, I guess.</em>” Bad smiled a little smile, just to encourage each other and not to think negatively.</p><p>Sometimes mistakes happened, and you just had to make sure you didn't repeat them.</p><p>Finally, the three characters came to sigh in a synchronicity that even made them laugh for a moment, before finally Skeppy yawned, still tired from his service, Bad smiling at him before leading him inside the floral store to go up to the apartment above, coming to greet the color-blind man and wishing him a good day, the concerned one finally resuming his walk in silence, pensive.</p><p>George remained silent, greeting the few passers-by who came out of their homes, the merchants who were chatting with their customers...little by little the city was filling up with people, time passing quickly.<br/>
So, as we were coming to the end of the morning, George stopped suddenly in his walk, clenching his fist around the bunch of the basket he was carrying, having done his shopping for the next few days... And he looked at a building for a short moment before sighing and entering it.<br/>
Without further ado, knowing this place, he went up the stairs. One floor, a second, a third and then a fourth...and found himself on the landing of a door, bending down to lift the entrance mat and smiling when he saw a small key hidden underneath.</p><p>And, under this silence, he grabbed the keys with his fingertips, opening with the door facing him, entering the place in question...and George was greeted by a soft sound. A meowing, more precisely.</p><p>The man observed for a moment the white cat with brown spots standing in front of him as he closed the door behind him, smiling as he felt him rubbing in front of him.</p><p>"<em>Hello Patches~</em>" he greeted him as he came to caress him, a smile formed by his lips which came to stretch, loving animals and also cats. He himself had a cat named Luca. "<em>Clay is a bad master, isn't he? He left you all alone!</em>”</p><p>He laughed a little at his own words, finding them absurd. It was impossible to believe, since his friend loved his cat more than he loved his best friend. It was very important to him, it was his feline companion who was destined to be connected to him until the end.<br/>
And anyway...Clay knew that George would have to go home to take care of the cat while he was away.</p><p>And he was right about this, when, with his eyes of a few colors, he saw a post-it, the color of light blue, almost of the lagoon, as he saw his best friend's writing on it, standing up to take it and read it.</p><p>He wrote, "Take care of Patches", while there was another post-it underneath. ''I care about her a lot, you know that. So take care of her too.</p><p>George rolled his eyes, coming to puff in a "<em>As if I had a choice anyway</em>"...and his gaze was caught by a third piece of blue paper, approaching to take it.</p><p>''Don't be frustrated, I promise, I care about you too, don't worry. (But no more than my cat does, anyway.) &lt;3''.</p><p>"<em>What an idiot.</em>” joked the young man, suppressing another laugh, ignoring his cheeks which were getting a little scarlet, thinking that it was just the thermal shock that made him hot all of a sudden, just at the sight of this word and the little heart…</p><p>And there were other papers, like silly words, rotten jokes...until he found another post-it, bigger, like a small letter, and probably the last one since he had looked around the blond man's apartment, observing the word that was longer than the others.</p><p>''I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving. Wilbur didn't want me to, because it was a security measure, since you're joining the militia.”</p><p>He puffed up one cheek, thinking he would have wanted to know anyway...and continued reading, quietly, watching the kitten from the corner of his eye.</p><p>“Again: Watch out for Patches. Or I wouldn't be very happy!’’</p><p>A small drawing of a smiley face that frowned on his eyebrows was next to it, making him laugh. Sometimes he would punctuate his messages with such little drawings, it was always cute to see. ''I'm sorry for what's going to happen.''</p><p>Then he continued his reading, George seeming in a most captivating silence to certain sentences, certain words, certain admitted things about the City...he himself felt obliged to just read them and not to think about them, not to say them out loud or even...even if only to know them....</p><p>“I couldn't think that myself...but he seemed to be telling the truth. I could only believe him. Wilbur is a Genius.”</p><p>Wilbur really seemed to know everything. It was impressive.<br/>
How could a Resistance fighter know so much about the City when according to rumors and his family, he had left the City more than 19 years ago?<br/>
How can he stay alive for so long? Especially with so many back and forth trips between the City and the outside?<br/>
How could Technoblade not even catch its own twin brother ?<br/>
George was confused when he thought about it.</p><p>"There are many hidden things in the city, you know. Much more than I would have imagined.<br/>
Did you know that Sapnap and Karl's boyfriend, Quackity, owned a thing like a fight club ? With them under Karl's store?<br/>
It's kind of funny when you know that Quackity is Schlatt's right-hand man. We'll need to ask Snapmap one day. Their fight club is pretty popular too, especially with the resistance fighters and for Wilbur when he is looking for good fighters."</p><p>It was funny and amazing at the same time. It even made him laugh just thinking that their best friends were capable of having such a business.</p><p>"But you know...there are more dangerous things, more worrying things.<br/>
The militia hides scary things. Things I could never have imagined. Wilbur says it's one of the solutions they used to take when they wanted to silence someone.<br/>
Execution was never the only possible solution. It's crazy, right?"</p><p>It was like a blocking, a prohibition that was made when he saw the content of this message, of all these secrets that Dream told him, of all the things that he knew but that he had to forget at the same time?<br/>
George remained mute for a moment, the cat lying on his thighs by the fact that he had sat down while reading it without even realizing, a few seconds, a few minutes...</p><p>''See you at the next coffee! Take care of yourself, George. Love you :)" had been the last words of this message, leaving him standing there, stunned, pensive, staring at these last words, as if his mind was going to be disconnected.</p><p>He didn't really understand what he was going through.</p><p>"<em>At the next coffee... yeah.</em>" he sighed finally, in a frail, almost trembling voice... and he observed all the papers in his hands, the post-it notes, the letter he was holding, all that in a moment... God, he was already missing him.</p><p>When George returned home, with Clay's little cat in his arms, the young man with white glasses found that it was a good day to make a splendid fire and to spend a few good hours in front of it, a good book in hand to pass the time. His friend Karl was an avid reader. And he was the one who gave him very interesting books to read. "Tales from the SMP" was the one he received from him a few days ago. It's a good opportunity to start it now, right?<br/>
Plus, he had some super fuel to have a bright and perfect fire, watching with his eyes the blue textures burning in the fireplace along with the wood, an amused smile on his face.</p><p>"<em>...The next few months are likely to be very hectic.</em>”</p><p>He had pulled this out all of a sudden as a laugh came from behind him and George instantly froze.</p><p>"<em>It's hardly now that you realize it?</em></p><p>- <em>Sap!</em>” smiled George, turning his head towards the man who had just moved into his apartment. A man with black hair, slightly dark skin, white and black clothes and a white band around his forehead... "<em>Learn to knock next time, it's bad for the heart to scare like that.</em>”</p><p>“Sap'' choked a laugh as he put down the duplicate key that his friend had passed to him, coming to sit by the fire in turn, George standing up looking at him.</p><p>"<em>A coffee...um maybe?</em>” he proposed, the boy nodded without even hesitating, as no one could refuse a good hot drink in these cold and bad times.</p><p>The drink was brought back a few minutes later, George coming to hand a yellow mug -at least, from what he could see- to his friend, carrying a blue mug -his unique and favorite color as ever- to his lips as he settled back in ready to discuss anything and everything with this boy who was his second best friend. He, Sapnap and Clay were a perfect trio. And although each had a different path, they saw each other whenever they could, no matter what mood they were in.</p><p>"<em>Is it true that you run and hide a fight club with your boyfriends?</em></p><p>- <em>What ?! There are some things that have to remain silent sometimes George! I don't even want to know how you know that.</em></p><p>- <em>Everyone has their secrets !</em>"</p><p>The brunette couldn't help but burst out laughing. Sapnap followed him shortly afterwards in his laughter, although he did not answer frankly.<br/>
Some things are private, and should not be said. Especially when your friend is going to become a member of the guardians of the city. Even if you trust him...it's better to take precautions, right?<br/>
But..well, it was a very good day for George.<br/>
At least he had to be, if the ball of anxiety he had in his stomach could stop bothering him without him really understanding why.</p><p>Meanwhile, while the City of L'Manburg experienced a most normal, basic day, as if nothing had happened since...<br/>
In the central base, called the "Nexus" or the “L’Mantree”, the place where all the militiamen of the City met, being the main building, the City Administrator even working at the top... a small group of two people, a duo, composed of Technoblade and Tubbo, were both in the stylized offices of a character dressed in white cloth and a red beret, a classic outfit of the Commander, in fact... the concerned one who wore this facing them, an annoyed look on his face.</p><p>One could not see his eyes, the man wearing glasses on his face, only his mimicry of passing a hand through his locks of front hair showing his current mood which already exasperated him. It annoyed him.</p><p>"<em>Report of the facts, Techno.</em>” ordered this one, the Superior in the heavy purple black armor coming to hold a sigh, observing for a moment the recruit who was all anguished at his side, coming to replace a lock of his hair behind his ear, having had to remove his helmet, as every time he made act of presence in front of the high ranking officers as Eret or even the great Admin, Schlatt, or Jschlatt for the code name...</p><p>"<em>We were dealing with a case of disruptive citizens who were grouped together with Punz and Nihachu. Tubbo had completed his tour of duty and was on his way to the L'Mantree. But then the power went out, and Tubbo acted like any soldier by going to protect the hatch as he was on the scene. He was all alone and got hit by a man who witnesses can say was the masked man, Dream. This allowed him to escape.</em>”</p><p>Eret observed for a moment Tubbo, the latter having his head down, not allowing himself to look one of his superiors in the eyes. He was a recruit, he had no right to do that. It was like defying the demons if you dared to even look at those higher up than you. Keeping your head down, your eyes on the ground, showing your inferiority over and over again.... that's how it worked.</p><p>"<em>...There was also another man, potentially Wilbur, the former citizen who escaped more than nineteen years ago. Apart from that...I ended up advising Tubbo to go to the infirmary if he had really hurt himself, and to go make his report for him to dispose of, allowing us to finish our work and witness statements before leaving the city in charge of the night shift. Ranboo took charge of securing the rest of the area for the night.</em>”</p><p>Ranboo was his equal, but only from the other team. He was a man with the same title of Superior as him, although it was more recent.</p><p>Eret then remained silent for a moment, coming to observe the other two before sighing.</p><p>"<em>I'm going to make sure that Schlatt gets the word out...but that it doesn't happen again, even if it means having to take the recruits home so that you're not alone in case of a problem.</em>”</p><p>The Commander then crossed his gaze before Techno's, looking serious.</p><p>"<em>I hope your damn little brother doesn't have a plan in his head that you know about, Blade. Phil would be so disappointed if he did... by the way Phil, I hope he's been okay by now. And Tommy too.</em></p><p>- <em>...Don’t talk about my family, Eret.</em>" Techno grumbled back, skillfully ignoring his other questions, annoyed in his turn now, Tubbo deciding to make himself very small by learning things he shouldn't know too much at the moment… “<em>And no, I don't know anything about it.</em></p><p>"I hope I can trust you, Techno.." sighed the one in the sunglasses before finally inviting them to approach, moving towards one of the tables that were at his desk, a card being on it. "<em>Apart from that, I'm thinking of organizing an expedition outside soon to catch these traitors. According to the members of the neighboring City, hundreds of kilometers from here...a resistant base would be between our two positions, so it is to be checked.</em></p><p>- <em>Do you want to send a team on it or a whole army?</em></p><p>- <em>...Just one team will do, but know that you will be part of it, Blade. And the recruits, for that matter.</em>”</p><p>And hearing this, Tubbo felt a shiver run down his spine, very insecure. No thanks, really no. They were barely in training and they were already on their way to the field?<br/>
He had been told that no one would leave the city without becoming at least a Superior or a recommended militiaman, right?<br/>
So why?</p><p>"<em>But training will come first.</em>” Eret continued all the same before fixing the one he called the ''Blade''. "<em>You will personally take care of the new recruit, George, by the way. Tubbo will go on patrol with the others.</em></p><p>- <em>I thought I was in charge of all the trainings?</em></p><p>- <em>Not any more... we have to keep him in our sights. Not that I mind him joining the militia, but...don't spare him. Just a little.</em></p><p>- <em>….Do you really want to discourage him from abandoning his goal of entering among us?</em>” Techno asked, surprised but at the same time confused. George just had a high social standing, but it was clear that he wouldn't be the best of all of us easily, so to do this....</p><p>"<em>Don't make me say what I'm thinking, Technoblade. He just doesn't deserve his place with us.</em>” Eret laughed softly before finally, after a few words between the Commander and the Superior, each having almost forgotten the presence of the brown-haired man who kept staring at them as he got smaller, the highest ranking officer allowed them to leave and finally go on patrol, Techno uttering a huge sigh..</p><p>"<em>It could have been worse…!</em>" Tubbo had tempted with a small smile on his face, while the older one watched him for a moment, before walking, silent.</p><p>"<em>It's worse already. Just that you didn't understand the meaning of his sentences, which just seem basic and normal, for a Commander like him.</em>”</p><p>Technoblade seemed serious, far too serious.<br/>
It was something that froze Tubbo, freezing him as a stress ball formed in his stomach, even less confident than before.</p><p>
  <strong>What was going to happen then, if Eret's words didn't sound as he thought they would?</strong>
</p><p>Technoblade decided not to say anything more, simply leaving the smallest one in his thoughts, thinking that at least he would learn something from it.<br/>
And while they had both ended up patrolling together, having decided for the entire day team to make groups in duo to better square the perimeters and neighborhoods ...<br/>
A few times later, Technoblade's eyes were caught by a silhouette in the distance, walking quietly, the green color of his sweater making him stand out and stand out from the others...his instinct couldn't help but run towards this man whom he stopped suddenly when he pointed his taser at him and asked him to turn around to go against the wall and search him, making it look like a normal thing...</p><p>And that's when the person turned, to reveal the face of a man with dirty-blond hair and emerald eyes who without hesitation became docile in order to quietly obey as a good citizen would, letting himself be searched by the new recruit with brown hair and crazy glasses that he was now in charge of, totally ignoring both of them...ignoring also that he shouldn't in reality, the recruit's reaction to this person having escaped him...<br/>
It was at that precise moment, when Technoblade turned his gaze towards the rest of the city, that he could see a silhouette he knew only too well sitting at the top of a building, catching his eye, making him clench his fists...</p><p>Oh yes...it was at that moment, when his gaze returned to the man in the green hoodie who had been released after a good check, that reality struck Technoblade, turning his gaze back to the building to see that there was no one left....</p><p>It was here, right here, right now, that the instinct of the man with the soft pink hair dared to manifest for the first time in his life what could be called stress. Anxiety. A very bad feeling.<br/>
What is the reason for this? No one knew.</p><p>"That Bastard...”</p><p>And this feeling was not going to leave him immediately, oh he was well aware of that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Dreams can be made of regrets. But life itself can be too.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just before this passing month, George cursed his dreams. Painful dreams...</p><p>A month later, that famous month after, George finally joined the militia.<br/>Technoblade seemed preoccupied, after a certain day, without anyone knowing why. He seemed irritated.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is another <strong>note</strong> at the end of the chapter, if you want more precision about the time and ages of the characters! </p><p>Have a good reading! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He often had the same dream over and over again. Always the same moment, always the same scenes, always the bad feeling that made him shiver with uneasiness and horror, always the same feelings of regret that came to him...<br/>
George could never stop it. Dreams are uncontrollable, even more so when they're just there to rub salt into the wound.</p><p>He was always aware of his dreams, but he couldn't stop them, no. He was always dreaming of that moment, of the moment when his best friend's life had changed, of that moment when he had been useless.<br/>
George had always felt useless compared to Clay. He could never stop thinking to what he feel so bad every time. </p><p>
  <strong>He looked at Clay's parents' bodies, bathing in their blood, in that carmine liquid that terrified him from the depths of his being.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>[It was disgusting.]</strong>
</p><p>"<em>George.</em>" his mother breathed softly as she watched the two young children who had just been forced to watch the bloody scene. "<em>Go home...I have something to do first, I need to talk to an old friend.</em>”</p><p>His gaze, which he followed, was on a man with half-long blond hair, blue eyes and dressed mainly in green who seemed to be waiting for her. He was the one who was named Philza, George knew he was a really nice man so he could trust his mom on this one. He didn't want to see her disappear...not after what they had just seen....<br/>
Nodding his head, silent, he pulled his grip on the small Clay so that he could follow him...but the young child did not do anything about it, and on the contrary, broke away from the older one's grip and ran towards the corpse of his parents, in tears.</p><p>"<em>C-clay! We're not allowed to climb on the pod-</em>"</p><p>He stopped in his words when he made the man from earlier come in front of the young child.</p><p>It was Technoblade. One of Phil's sons, everyone knew him and his family. George used to see him often in the library when he was studying before and he was doing his homework with his classmates from the elementary school or even just reading comic books with Clay and Nick.<br/>
He had come closer, without a single hesitation, as the militiaman's bloodstained weapon made him feel anything but trust, as he came to pull on his friend's arm, bringing him down from the “podium of punishment”.</p><p>“<em>Y-you monster!</em>” shouted the smaller one, while George panicked more than anything else, wanting him to stop talking straight away so as not to make things worse...but he didn't have the time. "<em>You had no right!!</em></p><p>- <em>...Traitors have to be punished.</em>" had simply replied the one with pink hair, in a voice that was meant to be serious and authoritative  -although George felt that he still had the voice of an adolescent, since he knew that the Superior barely had the majority -.</p><p>Technoblade glanced at George and sighed.</p><p>"<em>Bring him down from there. I don't have time to waste with kids.</em></p><p>- <em>You'll pay for that one day! You..you will lose what you love the most in the world one day too! I pro-</em>" Clay shouted suddenly as George took him back, hurrying to put his hand in front of his mouth.</p><p>But upon hearing this, the brown-haired boy had a bad feeling when another superior came up to him, alerted by the sound the smallest of them all made.</p><p>It was Eret, one of the rising stars of the militia. The next Commander, they said at the school in front of his beautiful prowess.<br/>
Fuck.</p><p>"<em>Anything wrong around here?</em>" he asked his colleague. "<em>The population must be dispersed so that others can take care of clearing the place. Don't take the opportunity to talk to kids.</em></p><p>- <em>I'm just keeping them out of trouble. It was the parents of the little one who died, he just...wanted to see them..</em>"</p><p>His voice became weaker as George wondered why he was suddenly weakening. He...regretted it? Defended them for daring to go on the podium even though they had no right? It gave him an impression of everything but a lie on his part, to say this.</p><p>But Eret had a bad smile when he heard this, as he observed the little blond boy for a moment...and when he approached the bodies, he put his hand in the carmine liquid....<br/>
And he approached the little one, George still holding his friend...and Superior Eret put his bloody hand on the child's cheek in a gentle caress, covering him with blood.<br/>
His hand was cold, icy, nailing the little one in place, in addition to the panic and fear that gripped him in front of the man's smile and the evil look on his face.</p><p>"<em>You better be quiet before the same thing happens to you, Clay.</em>” smiled the one in the sunglasses  -despite the fact that it's still winter-, the little one barely seeing his frightening look… "<em>That would be a shame, wouldn't it?</em>”</p><p>George not hesitated to step back when he heard such a thing, taking his friend with him in hallucination at having heard such horrible words, bowing to the two Superiors to apologize for the inconvenience and the time he had just wasted on them...and leaving, escaping from what could be called a crime scene, a totally macabre scene...ignoring the indescribable look Technoblade was giving him, or even Eret's laughter.</p><p>That day, George knew that the militia were mostly monsters, tyrants. Profiteers.<br/>
Disgusting.</p><p>That day, Clay knew that nothing would ever be the same again. That, even as a child, he understood that his life would be less meaningful, that it would be duller, sadder.</p><p>
  <strong>The two young friends had already chosen their side in their thoughts that day, even though they were still too young to do anything about it.</strong>
</p><p>"<em>I did everything I could to cheer him up, to give him a smile full of happiness...</em>" murmured the brown-haired man as he found himself in the arms of his other best friend, looking tired, his voice hoarse, showing that he had just woken up. "<em>Even now his smiles are so fake, so sad, Sap...I can't stop thinking about our childhood...I could have saved him so much from seeing all this and....</em>”</p><p>His voice blocked, not wanting to say anything else, as the embrace on his person grew stronger as Nick rubbed his own arm around the shoulders of his other best friend.</p><p>"<em>You know it's not your fault, G'. Relax.</em>" he tried, not very helpful in comforting, to tell the truth. "<em>You know that Clay doesn't blame you, and that he told you to think about yourself. He'd rather see you smile too.</em></p><p>- <em>I know that...but it's not easy when you keep dreaming about your memories, about all the times I spent with Clay and I couldn't even get it right because I was just a kid.…</em></p><p>- <em>Basically, you're still just a kid, even if you're more than twenty years old. You were more of a kid then, so that's normal too. You just need to...forget and make sure you replace those memories.</em></p><p>- <em>Replace them with what then? Sap', I've been trying for years not to think about it anymore, but how do you want me to...finally...</em>”</p><p>He left his sentence hanging, while the young one finally sighed, patting his friend's head, straightening himself up to add wood to the fire.</p><p>"<em>I don't know, like...tell Clay what you're really thinking?</em>”</p><p>The thing had been put down like that, all of a sudden, while the color-blind man rolled his eyes, bored.</p><p>"<em>Thank you very much for that unhelpful advice, Sapnap. I've already told him that I'm still mad at myself and he-</em></p><p>- <em>I'm talking about the fact that you should say what you really think of him, on a sentimental level, George.</em>” The younger one rectified as he turned to the older one to see him, his cheeks crimson, staring at him. He said, "<em>What?</em></p><p>- <em>Stop saying such bullshit, you idiot! What the fuck !</em>" he grumbled, crossing his arms as he watched the cats playing together nearby. "<em>We're not even on the same side anymore, we're not even allowed to talk to each other ! And that doesn't solve the problem at all!</em></p><p>- <em>You still do it when you go to the bar with him.</em></p><p>- <em>You see a relationship between two people just in a bar by only seeing each other once a month? Seriously? Knowing that we're basic bros, especially?</em>”</p><p>Touché.</p><p>It was literally unbearable, indeed. Sapnap couldn't deny that.<br/>
The term "bros" on the other hand, he hadn't believed in it for so long.</p><p>"<em>You could always resign from the militia and join him, you know. You have obligations for your family at the moment, but it's not a bad thing if you leave later...they don't deserve you in their ranks.</em>“</p><p>George remained pensive for a moment, a sigh crossing his lips.</p><p>The relationship between him and Clay was like best friends, but really, <em>really</em> close. Always holding on to each other, cuddling for no reason at all, sometimes even sleeping together in the same bed, as some girls would do at things called sleepovers  -at least according to the books he was reading - all this just between two good old friends, with a very platonic relationship.<br/>
Sometimes, and often, they would tease each other, tell each other lover jokes or even dirty jokes about their relationship, saying sweet words to each other, "I love you" without any emotion, just to laugh...Clay even seemed to have developed a passion for making him blush when things caught him by surprise, or even when his heart was beating faster when the other was doing something that brought them closer than usual. His cheeks and face always ended up becoming a real tomato, to his great misfortune and to the joy of the blond boy and his crazy laughter when he looked at him.<br/>
But for George, Clay remained a friend, deep inside. And vice versa, anyway. Nick and their other friends just used to make fun of them when they saw this kind of thing going on, it was understandable.<br/>
But feelings? Sometimes he would question it, in the middle of the night, or in an activity he was doing. He would fix a point in the void, or the ceiling, his food.... to always have only one answer.</p><p>
  <strong>''Love was something really boring to understand.''</strong>
</p><p>"<em>...I don't know, I...I know that not all militiamen are perfect and that they are often bad with the citizens but...I would like to think that I would change that if I move up the ranks to finally be able to re-establish equality...don't you think?</em></p><p>- <em>...I understand better why Clay keeps telling me that you never think about yourself and too much about others.</em>" sighed the one in the white bandana finally, his shoulders falling down, knowing that he couldn't really do much about his friends' choices. "<em>Take some time to think about all this anyway, you know that Clay will still stay by your side, even if the feeling isn't mutual. I mean, if it's more of a relationship, I mean.</em></p><p>- <em>...He's just my best friend, Sap, nothing else…</em></p><p>- <em>If you say so.</em>” He shrugged, showing that he didn't believe in it at all. “<em>Homies are homies after all.</em>”</p><p>A murmur of insult from the smaller one came as Sapnap returned to settle down with his friend, choosing to change the subject. This did both of them a lot of good, as they liked to talk and tell stories to each other more.<br/>
Finally, after a few hours had passed, the raven haired guy noticed that the weather was already approaching his night-time period, and therefore, on top of that, the usual late curfew.</p><p>"<em>Don't hesitate to come in our house if you need to!</em>” suggested the one dressed in bi-color with a smiling grin on his face. "<em>Karl will be glad to see you a little more, you know. Quackity too.</em></p><p>- <em>I'll think about it.</em>" smiled the one with the glasses back, walking him to the door. "<em>Thank you for earlier, it was good to see you today. Say hello to Karl and Alex for me.</em>”</p><p>After a hug between the two of them, and goodbyes between them, George spent the rest of his evening with a more peaceful mind, with the two little cats he was having fun with for company.</p><p>Time, however, was not in everyone's favor.</p><p>Winter was harsh, complicated. Many citizens died from hypothermia, or even starvation...things were hard when you couldn't afford enough to survive.<br/>
George was fortunate that he and his family - because of his high rank - had enough money to handle these kinds of worries perfectly, not even hesitating to give some to his friends to help them for the most part. He had a quiet, easy life, he didn't need so much then...so he gave to others.<br/>
With this, he spent most of his time at home, sitting by the fire, reading, playing with Patches and Luca...he even started writing little stories, little poems, for his own pleasure. He even drew quite a lot, having been doing it all his life, and we had to admit to ourselves: he wasn't bad at all in this domain.<br/>
But after a few weeks, as the weather slowly calmed down, it was, when he entered for the first time in his life the Central Zone of the City of L'Manburg, aka the Nexus, dressed in a uniform worthy of a military man just starting out, that he knew that his free time at home was going to become much more non-existent and impossible, all of a sudden.<br/>
So he found himself here, along with the other members of the Militia, facing Commander Eret, who was debriefing for the new week. And the very first one for him.</p><p>"<em>Good! Time was not in our favor so the training of the recruits had been delayed. Fortunately, this is getting better, so we will be able to start again.</em>" he announced above all, while Eret looked at us, recruits. "<em>I will then distribute the groups and zones to each one, as usual.</em>"</p><p>George was alone with two other people, among the so-called Recruits. One of them was named Tubbo, he had started his training first with another one, who ended up with them...Callahan, if he was not mistaken in the code name...? He didn't speak at all, so he couldn't say much.<br/>
He was really the last one to be trained, unfortunately, his condition being exceptional, since he didn't pass any real test. And the perplexed looks that the Commander sometimes gave him really gave him the impression that no, he totally regretted having to train him.  Just because he is color blind. So unfair.</p><p>But that was understandable too, it was a handicap like any other, basically the basic militia must have almost perfect men in their ranks, it was just...the exception.  Just because he didn't have a choice because of his family.</p><p>"<em>This time, Tubbo will go on patrol with Superior Ranboo and Militiaman Connor for today, as Ranboo will be part of the day crew temporarily for training. You will be going mainly to the commercial and main areas with the usual citizen search. For Recruit Callahan, he will go with Militia Punz, Puffy and Nihachu in the residential areas. The areas of the rich and the poor, of course. In fact, you have to search some houses following complaints and reports from some good citizens, the list is in Quackity's office. Make sure you fill it out properly so that the night shift can watch the area at night for what will be noted as suspicious. Capiche?</em>"</p><p>Each of them nodded, most of them already leaving to prepare their equipment for the day, or they were already leaving to discuss the tour they were going to do, how they were going to proceed...<br/>
Then suddenly, as the huge room gradually emptied, George tilted that he was all alone. All alone with only one other person.</p><p>Technoblade.</p><p>Why. Just why.</p><p>"<em>Technoblade, you'll be with George for the day and even the next few days to train him properly.</em>" Eret said with a smile...amused? It was hard for George to understand at the moment. "<em>You'll be patrolling the restricted areas to see if anything has changed. You will also go through the narrow streets and places that may attract possible surveillance and check every person in the area. Blade, make sure you give him the proper training. If there is any suspicious movement, he will be allowed to use his service weapon. Is that okay for you two?</em></p><p>- <em>Y-yes sir!</em>” George said. Eret finally greeted them in order to go and do his day's work himself, motivated.</p><p>But it was something that didn't seem to be to Technoblade's taste, who mumbled a few words, already coming to get ready and waiting for George near the exit to go and do their work of the day.<br/>
This did little to reassure the man with glasses, feeling a certain uneasiness and tension between them, although he was unaware of the reason. He seemed quite...annoyed to have to deal with a training session, it seems.<br/>
And that reassured him even less, when the day passed little by little, he and Technoblade making their patrol route through the City...in a most awkward silence for three quarters of the time. Except when the elder one took him back on his mistakes like when he had badly controlled a citizen, or didn't know how to handle the taser properly, or even that, no, as a soldier, you shouldn't be so nice to citizens as to accept people who came to flirt with you in order to slip through your fingers for example!</p><p>But lucky for George, who was quick to learn from his mistakes, and to Technoblade's delight, the young recruit at least had the efficiency and genius to ask the right questions and understand the answers he was given, without even having to justify or use childish language.</p><p>"<em>In the case of a generator power cut, and a citizen sets foot on the manhole cover, is descending the ladder, or the front door of the city is wide open, and someone runs straight ahead, but it's far enough away...do I necessarily have to shoot?</em></p><p>- <em>...In the extreme case and if you are not accompanied by another who has by default the right to shoot, yes.</em></p><p>- <em>A precise point of the body to shoot?</em></p><p>- <em>The legs. Mostly the thigh, where there is the most flesh, the place that allows the wounded person to remain conscious with less horrible pain than if you shoot in the calf muscle. Depends on how you aim.</em></p><p>- <em>Is the arm an option also in this kind of case?</em></p><p>- <em>Not very effective in stopping someone, so no. But if it's just a punishment for an infraction, it will mostly be the arm indeed.</em>”</p><p>...These are basic questions, yes.</p><p>But while George seemed pensive again for a moment, his body suddenly waltzed backwards when he jostled someone, automatically feeling sorry by instinct, turning towards the person he had just bothered.</p><p>"<em>Oh, I'm sorry if-</em>" he immediately did, before freezing when he noticed the face of the person he had just bothered. </p><p>A green sweatshirt with a smile inlaid on it, hair made of brown and blond, emerald eyes…</p><p>"<em>Clay?</em></p><p>- <em>Ah sorry George, I wasn't paying attention where I was walking!</em>" he laughed softly, as his bright irises seemed really happy to see his best friend again.</p><p>And of course, the color-blind man's eyes were literally filled with stars.</p><p>"<em>Recruit, your work.</em>” Technoblade ordered Technoblade with an unappreciative grunt as he looked around, followed by the top of a building, George ignoring the building's reaction, smiling gently at Clay when he had to tell him to face the wall to control him.</p><p>Unfortunately, while checking Clay, George noticed that his friend was carrying a pliers, which is usually used to cut cables...like those of the generator.<br/>
This was illegal, and normally such cases are punished by a nice detour to jail, but...it was his friend, he couldn't do it.</p><p>"<em>..Everything is good for you, sir!</em>" he announced in a controlled, calm voice, the taller of the two turning around, the look of the Resistance fighter seeming soft and filled with silent thanks. "<em>Thank you for your cooperation and glory to the City of L'Manburg!</em></p><p>- <em>...Glory to the City and courage with work, George. See you tonight for our usual date?</em>" asked Clay nonchalantly, with a smile, as he watched Technoblade out of the corner of his eye, knowing he had something else in mind. The young soldier nodded his head to confirm this. "<em>Perfect then. Have a nice day!</em>”</p><p>He overtook him, offering him a smile before watching him leave, his heart seeming to be light.<br/>
No doubt reassured to see him again after so much silence, according to him.</p><p>"<em>This bastard…</em>"</p><p>But the sudden word of his Superior made him jump, suddenly stressed, especially when he heard such an insult. Had he noticed that he hadn't controlled it well? That he had just let an illegal object pass without saying anything just because this man was his friend?<br/>
George had turned around, already ready to justify himself...but was surprised to see that the pink-haired man's gaze was riveted on the top of a building, questioning him sharply.</p><p>"<em>What's wrong ? ..Techno?</em>” he asked, as the person concerned seemed to be holding back a startle when he heard that someone was calling him, watching George for a moment before sighing and resuming his walk.</p><p>"<em>Nothing, I was just thinking.</em>” The man directly denied this, raising an arcade to George, who seemed to have sensed that he wasn't telling the truth. Something that made him sigh. "<em>...Let's finish this patrol so that we can finally go and make our reports, Recruit.</em></p><p>- <em>A-ah! All right, let's go!</em>”</p><p>The rest of the time was spent quietly on this, with George's smile totally glued to his face, his good mood having returned.<br/>
He was happy, looked good, seemed totally invigorated with all his energy. All this just to get Clay.<br/>
His cheeks turned a slight pink color when he thought of him.<br/>
He was really looking forward to having coffee with him tonight.</p><p>"<em>George, Techno!</em>" has said Ranboo and Connor as they returned to the Central Base at the end of the day, smiling, each one gradually finishing their shift to get a replacement. "<em>A coffee maybe before going home?</em>”</p><p>Both accepted with joy, work draining them completely of their energy. Glory to caffeine and its virtues.</p><p>
  <strong>Coffee was really something essential to their little lives.</strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I must admit that I am not the best at expressing the age difference between the characters. So here I summarize the ages of the main characters then of the past (when Clay and George were younger) and of the present (now).</p><p>The ages were made according to logic! According to the army entrance fee, their ranks, the adoption of Techno, Wilbur and Tommy by Philza, etc...</p><p>[Before] - Dream|Clay = 10 years old / George = 13 years old / Technoblade &amp; Wilbur = 27 years old / Philza = 43 years old </p><p>[Now] - Dream|Clay = 20 years old / George = 23 years old / Technoblade &amp; Wilbur = 37 years old / Philza = 53 years old / Tommy = 16 years old /(+  Tubbo = 17 years old)</p><p>(Dadza is very old yes. :P)</p><p>If I feel the need to specify other ages of other characters in the story, I will make another note if necessary!<br/>Thanks to you anyway for following this story, I hope you enjoy it! :)</p><p>See you at the next chapter !! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Did I ever tell you that I really like coffee ?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After work, George found himself sitting at that bar he loved so much, patient.<br/>In front of two cups of coffee, the two young men exchanged a few words during their first month apart.</p>
<p>But they were doing well. That was the most important thing.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bell connected to the front door resounded in the whole place, a cold breeze being present for a moment before melting into the warmth of this place. Slowly, as the seconds passed in this place where time usually stopped, George, mug in his hands, had his gaze riveted on the one who had just arrived, his steps becoming slow, rhythmic, almost musical. His hoodie in Irish green was omnipresent, opposing any existing color of this place, all eyes being necessarily conducted by this character whose presence was almost suffocating, overwhelming. It was almost stressful.</p>
<p>Finally, the soft sound of footsteps stopped suddenly, as the man with white glasses on his head came to put down his cup, watching the second one settle down in front of him, smiling at him.</p>
<p>"<em>A coffee maybe?</em>” he simply let him hear, while only a nod of his head answered him, followed by a quick order, then the ambient light of this bar which suddenly became much darker, subdued ...<br/>
Not even five more minutes and another heated cup was placed on the table.</p>
<p>"<em>A month passed, and it felt like an eternity.</em>" said the adult as he looked at his shiny emerald eyes with a slight grin on his lips as Clay looked directly at his best friend. "<em>Good evening, George. It's been a long time.</em>"</p>
<p>George felt his heart beat faster for a brief moment just by hearing his voice. It was... it felt…</p>
<p>"<em>Missed me?~</em>" asked the one he was thinking about, taking a jaded look at him afterwards, which made Clay laugh.</p>
<p>"<em>I would have said yes at first, but surprisingly, I suddenly feel like saying no, I was finally at peace without you.</em>"</p>
<p>There was a silence between the two characters before everyone started laughing in unison for a few short minutes. Pleasant minutes.</p>
<p>"<em>..So?</em>" George finally said after a moment, looking at his fuming cup, his gaze riveted on the amber liquid.</p>
<p>"<em>Hm?</em></p>
<p>- <em>The pliers. The one you had.</em>" he then added, looking up at his friend. "<em>When is it due?</em></p>
<p>- <em>Oh, soon. It's for when we leave with the others.</em>”</p>
<p>The young militia recruit raised an eyebrow arch, curious. "The Others" ?</p>
<p>"<em>I can't tell you more at this point...it has to do with Will. Especially since I shouldn't say too much, Mister Recruit~</em></p>
<p>- <em>Oh shut up...it really surprised me to run into you all of a sudden in the city.... And to have to control you, in the process.</em></p>
<p>- <em>Are your hands always so wandering with the detector by the way?~</em>"</p>
<p>The smallest one had cheeks that came to take a hue, dropping an insult followed by an amused smile.</p>
<p>"<em>Hey, you never know, who knows what you may be hiding under your clothes?</em>"</p>
<p>Clay smiled -a fake smile, as usual- back at him.</p>
<p>"<em>Beautiful things, no doubt!</em></p>
<p>- <em>You're stupid...</em>” he laughed softly, rolling his eyes, hiding his embarrassment behind his cup.<br/>
The younger of the two came in turn to drink his coffee, purring at the unique taste of the drink of this place, a soothing smile coming to his lips.</p>
<p>"<em>I have to say it's been a long time since I've been so...calm, quiet...that I've had a good laugh. Especially with you.</em></p>
<p>- <em>You don't laugh at...well...with them?</em></p>
<p>- <em>Not at the moment. Well, quite a few times it happens, we have nice parties, we spend all our time together in Pogtopia.</em>” he confessed, taking a pose in his words with a sip of coffee, taking it up once done, knowing that his friend wasn't going to interrupt him. "<em>We're having fun...but seriousness comes before everything else, we just...have so much to do. We're just one of many cities here, everything has to be constantly monitored, explored, messages have to be passed between bases...you can't really laugh when you dare to negotiate tons of munitions for anything or services.</em>"</p>
<p>It was true that yes, the City of L'Manburg was only one of the many existing cities in this Earth. No one knew the exact number of them, just not more than a hundred, all led by their own militia, their own leader, themselves led by even higher ranks, them, those who manage all the Cities together…</p>
<p>
  <strong>It sounded scary, just to think about it.</strong>
</p>
<p>"<em>It's complex and gives you a headache just hearing you talk about it.</em></p>
<p>- <em>You have to have a headache sometimes in order to reach our final goal...</em>”</p>
<p>A light silence then fell for a short moment, quickly cut off by a weary sigh from George.</p>
<p>"<em>I feel helpless, I can't even help you with this.</em></p>
<p>- <em>You are already helping me by not telling your colleagues about me, that's enough already.</em>”</p>
<p>Dream's Alter-ego came to remain silent for a moment, pensive, before giving a small smile to his friend, reaching out his hand to take the hand of the other who was lying on the table.<br/>
The friend in question had lifted his head at his contact, before holding back a jolt when he saw the smiling grin on the blond boy's face.</p>
<p>It was...it was so much for him...see it was...<br/>
It was a real smile. A small one, a very small one, but it was a huge boost of hope for the color blind man.</p>
<p>"<em>You're already taking huge risks, George, you're not helpless. If you hadn't been there earlier, I would have been put in jail for that pliers, you could have given me up because of your new rank and I would have been executed...I wouldn't have had the courage to do all that...you're helping me a lot more than you think.</em></p>
<p>- <em>...</em>”</p>
<p>The concerned one didn't know what to answer, too focused on the other's lips, and from the air he held, his heart seemed to be spinning in his body.<br/>
George had always loved Clay's smile since he was a child. It always made him happy, the former little boy's happiness was his happiness too. If he smiled, he smiled with it. If he was happy, George was always happy. It was like...a total renewal of energy that came to him every time.<br/>
Unfortunately, the brunette was cut off in his thoughts when he felt Clay's thumb caressing the back of his hand, giving him a questioning look.</p>
<p>"<em>I've got something on my face?</em>” Clay asked, perplexed, raising an eyebrow halfway, curious, before releasing a laugh. "<em>I know that my beauty makes everyone speechless, but still !</em></p>
<p>- <em>...Can't you ever be serious for a moment?</em>” finally said the older one after a short moment, pulling his hand away from the other, watching him die laughing on this table. Literally. "<em>It's not funny...I was just thinking.</em>”</p>
<p>He nevertheless had a smile on his face, turning his eyes away from the small decorations in the room. Especially towards two beautiful paintings that were standing right next to their table, two simple but magnificent paintings. One was a mixture of cold colors, gray, white and black...Clay had also told him there was red, seeing it in an almost black hue, too. And in all this, in the middle of the top of the painting, a simple title: "Your City Gave Me Asthma". The other was made only of achromatic colors. Black, white, gray... A man seemed to be lying on the ground, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open, his head surrounded by two hands that seemed to be those of a woman who was above him: "Maybe I Was Boring," it was written. These two sentences, although profoundly meaningful, were always something that questioned him, despite the fact that he appreciated them. The manager of the bar had told them that it belonged to a former popular musician who used to play concerts here in different parts of the city, and especially here.<br/>
He would have liked to hear this musician one day.</p>
<p>"<em>It surprised me that you ended up with Technoblade, after all.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>- That much?</em>
</p>
<p><em>- Well...he never teams up alone with the basic recruits, it's pretty amazing.</em>”</p>
<p>Silence. Questioning. Doubts.</p>
<p>"<em>...Eret entrusted him to take care of my training...</em>" George finally tempted himself, an unknown stress coming to him, following a total confusion that took him by the throat. "<em>It was…</em>"</p>
<p>Clay came back to lay his hand on his friend's hand, catching his gaze, remaining serious.</p>
<p>"<em>Hey, George, it's just a coincidence, there's no way anything could be going on behind your back.</em></p>
<p><em>- I doubt it, but...</em>" He sighed, pensively observed his friend for a moment, followed by their hands... "<em>I feel like I'm going to make some films now...I don't thank you.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>- ...Just that you're not lucky to have ended up with this tyrant. I didn't mean to scare you, you know that.</em>
</p>
<p><em>- He's not really that bad really...just very calm, he's doing his job.</em>”</p>
<p>This was true after all: Why call someone a tyrant when they were simply doing what they were meant to do? Technoblade was a member of the militia, he had to act that way, and not otherwise. By choice or not, it was an obligation.<br/>
George thought that he understood the position of the militia better once you are yourself in the role of one of them.<br/>
“But they're also murderers...'' whispered a voice in his mind that he couldn't even deny.</p>
<p>
  <strong>[But were murderers like them really to blame?]</strong>
</p>
<p>"<em>You seem very pensive, you know.</em>" said the man known as Dream, as he returned to drink his coffee. "<em>It's unusual when we used to scream everywhere and spread terror in the city with Nick.<br/>

- We've grown up too, it plays a big part in it, I imagine. We are not kids as innocent anymore...and that' s a good thing, to be honest.</em></p>
<p><em>- ...Sometimes when I see the young kids running around the city, I see us, you and our friends, playing together during the spring and summer days.</em>" Clay watched his cup now empty, remembering those sweet moments. "<em>Especially at the end of winter, when we could never all see each other at the same time, those days were always a lot of fun and full of silly stories.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>- Those were good times...we were so innocent.</em>
</p>
<p><em>- I would almost feel guilty for wanting to destroy the innocence of all these children when we acted with the Resistance.</em>”</p>
<p>This last sentence almost seemed to annoy him for a moment, although the older one could understand it.<br/>
Not surprising, in short.<br/>
But finally, after a moment, Clay finally got up from his seat, put down the change to pay for his sweet caffeinated drink, just like his best friend who imitated his gesture...and they both ended up walking towards the exit, once again facing the cold outside.<br/>
They would have been fine without that, here…</p>
<p>"<em>You're not going to run away like last time, hmm?</em>" asked the smallest one, as he walked slowly through the streets with him, as the usual curfew was approaching. "<em>I'm still mad at you for that, by the way.</em></p>
<p><em>- I don't plan to leave right now, I reassure you...and sorry about that, again.</em>” said the one with the emerald eyes in a laugh, looking at the buildings around them. Nothing much had changed, nothing new since that time. But he still liked to look at every wall, every street, every nook and corner of L'Manburg. It fascinated him.</p>
<p>"<em>..Can I stay at your place tonight?</em>"Clay asked simply after a few minutes of walking, as he seemed to be in the clouds, causing George to startle and look up at him. "<em>I want to see Patches. My home is too empty without her, especially since it must be very dusty from last time.</em>”</p>
<p>Ah well, obviously…</p>
<p>"<em>Don't worry, you know you're always welcome in my house.</em>” smiles the brunette, having no worries about that.</p>
<p>On the contrary, it had been a long time since they had spent more time together than expected. They had only just met again, in this bar, with a simple coffee for each of them...it was so frustrating when you put it that way, to be honest. So when they arrived at the young rookie's apartment, George couldn't help but have a big smile on his face as he saw the one in the usual Irish sweatshirt running towards his cat to cuddle him like never before, a gentle look on his part in the face of such a sight.</p>
<p>"<em>I'm glad you're back...although it won't be forever.</em></p>
<p><em>- I'll always be here, even if I'm not physically present, Georgie. Especially for you.</em>”</p>
<p>It made the smallest, touched boy blush.</p>
<p>Their evening had ended quietly with discussions of everything and nothing, to be honest, both of them sitting on the sofa, a plaid wrapped around each other's bodies, cups of hot chocolate on the table passed by, and all this accompanied by the much appreciated fireplace... Our two protagonists both ended up falling asleep in the first hours after midnight, in a most appreciable atmosphere. This is the kind of thing you would never want to stop.</p>
<p>The next morning, unfortunately for George, he was forced to wake up, as his day off was not coming right away. He then opened his eyes slowly, saw that he had fallen asleep half asleep sitting on the sofa, him, head in the clouds, very badly awake…</p>
<p>"<em>Clay...?</em>” he let hear after a moment in a deep, hoarse and sleepy voice, observing the place at his side...<br/>
But nothing. There was nothing, no one, only the blanket stood there, with no one wrapped in it, George slowly realizing that he was waking up much more than before.</p>
<p>Clay had already left. Without anything, without a word, without even a goodbye, like last time.</p>
<p>
  <strong>Dream was already back, in this case.</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Family links seemed stronger than anything, no matter what the ideals.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Did I ever tell you that Technoblade loved his family?<br/>Oh yes, more than anything else.</p><p>And he loved his family, and will love them no matter what happens.</p><p>Even if Tommy was even more unbearable. Even if Wilbur was still enjoying making fun of him. Even if Philza continued to break the rules instead of taking care of himself.</p><p>Even if he had to break more and more the oath he had made to his rank.</p><p>To love. To hate.<br/>To attack. To protect.<br/>What was the point?</p><p>He could do anything for his family.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Technoblade seemed stressed.<br/>
It was quite rare to see him like that.</p><p>Another day, at the end of his shift, along with George, Ranboo and Connor, the four of them drank a light coffee together, quickly discussing their rounds, the weather, their winter...but no one could ignore the heel of the boot of the first Superior in the room that kept hitting the floor, although anyone could understand the reason. He didn't really talk as well, and although this was more usual than anything else, his silence seemed more different than usual. More frightening, more disturbing, more...more worrying, in fact.</p><p>But no one dared to say anything, as everyone's paths parted to go home, the pink-haired man having had to take the young recruit home. A question of security on Eret's part since the last "attack" -which was just an escape for him anyway- last month.</p><p>It was when the dark winter night came to show his presence that Technoblade finally went home, having met Skeppy on the way, getting along well enough with him to have a worthwhile conversation. He knew that he would make a good Superior in the army, and this little man was one of the few to face him. He could almost associate him with a close friend. Although deep down, he was not interested in having friends. His work took up all his time.</p><p>Work which made him sigh, moreover, as he arrived towards the entrance of his family's house, shaking and tapping his boots for a moment in front of the house to remove the snow on it before simply opening the front door and rushing inside, the heat of the place already hitting him.<br/>
But as soon as he closed the door, something else came knocking at him. More strongly, more eagerly. </p><p>Technoblade heard Phil laughing, Tommy, his little brother exclaiming, looking happy, and then...<br/>
His gaze saw emptiness for a moment as he walked through the entrance, revealing himself to the other people who were then all settled in the living room, looking like he was having a good time. Tommy, who seemed to be bouncing around in his seat with excitement, his eyes sparkling with joy, Philza, wrapped in a plaid, listening to the funny conversation that was going on, also taking part in it to add a few remarks and then …</p><p>Wilbur.</p><p>He, here, sitting at his ease beside his...beside their brother, seemed to be telling a story that could have been exciting if Technoblade's ears weren't whistling in the moment.<br/>
The three characters immediately saw the person concerned who had just arrived, Tommy coming immediately to put him back on the ground by coming to twist his eardrums with his strong voice.</p><p>"<em>Blade!</em>" exclaimed this one, joyful as usual. "<em>Ey Big man! We were waiting for you for dinner!</em>"</p><p>Phil came smiling in turn, knowing that the younger one had been complaining about being hungry before. He was amused, as Tommy's reactions were always interesting to watch, especially for laughing at.</p><p>"<em>Good evening, Tech.</em> "he said, greeting him, by the way. "<em>Go get changed, we'll be waiting for you to--</em></p><p><em>- What's he doing here?</em>" began the pink-haired man as he took out his service axe from his hip, next to one of his guns. An axe of a color between black and purple, shiny as you like, with golden features, perfectly refined and above all sharpened...he was the only one in the militia to hold one, all the others -including him too- had a sword at their basic disposal, but...everyone had their favorite weapons after all, didn't they?</p><p>"<em>Tech, listen, I-</em>" wanted to start the one dressed in green, quickly cut again.</p><p>“<em>I told you not to see him again, I ordered you to. Traitors are not welcome here.</em>”</p><p>His voice was cold, strong? Even the young blond boy with sapphire eyes didn't dare say anything about it.</p><p>But an applause from the traitor in question made him frown, Wilbur rising from his seat, at his ease.<br/>
...He seemed very comfortable, by the way, considering his clothes. A yellow turtleneck sweater, basic jeans, his soft red beanie that hid the back of his head, leaving only his big curly wick near his eyes, especially the left one, all of this accompanied by his glasses?</p><p>"<em>You're always so welcoming, "Tech".</em></p><p>
  <em>- Don't call me like that. Only Phil can.</em>
</p><p><em>- That's what I was saying, as welcoming as ever.</em>” the tallest of them all laughed softly, shrugging his shoulders. "<em>I'm just visiting my family while I'm passing through. Don't I have the right to just have a good time once in a while?</em></p><p><em>- My advice to you is to get out of here before I come and cut your head off without a shred of pity.</em>”</p><p>It had the knack of making Will laugh, mocking.</p><p>"<em>Please Techno, I know you won't even dare to do it.</em></p><p><em>- Are you sure about that?</em>”</p><p>It was provocation coming, and Philza, as a responsible adult -and fortunately-, quickly noticed this and immediately wanted to stop the possible fight -albeit verbal- between the two brothers, coughing for attention.</p><p>"<em>For once we are all together, make an exception and stop fighting.</em>" ordered the man as he came to lean on the armrests of his seat to get up, Technoblade and Wilbur already taking a step towards him in order to stop him in his movement.</p><p>"<em>You shouldn't move, Dadza, you're too old for that man,</em>" Tommy finally say, coming more quickly to the side of the one with medium-length blond hair to support him. The remark softened the atmosphere, Dave coming to put his gun away with a sigh, Wilbur sighing too, loving to carry his older brother but also twin brother at only two minutes intervals.</p><p>"<em>I warned you, Phil.</em>" said Techno, who was always so reluctant to have this parasite in their home. They were really risking a lot to keep him here! He himself looked like a traitor just by doing that! Already that the last time...no, THE last times it was borderline, there it was the 'pompom of the pompom!' "<em>Expect that he-</em></p><p><em>- Tech, that's enough now.</em>" the father of this at least particularly special family gave a light sermon, then resumed in a clear voice, walking to the kitchen with Tommy's help.</p><p>He ignored the grumbling of the red-eyed man, who still disliked the fact that people use his first name, especially for orders.<br/>
Philza was the only one to be able to name him, being his father all the same, but this was often unappreciated.</p><p>"<em>As I was saying, go change your clothes. We'll all eat together tonight, and I don't want unnecessary quarrels. Go set the table Will, the plates and cutlery haven't changed an inch, as always. I want us to spend some time together as a family, without any stories of camp or betrayal, for either of us. Got it?</em>”</p><p>The two elders each mumbled a "Yes" in their own way, knowing that they could not oppose their father. Seeing them obey in such a way always made the youngest of them laugh, and he always found them very amusing. Losers. </p><p>Technoblade had ended up staring at his twin for a moment before taking his leave and going to his room to put on more comfortable clothes, mentally insulting knowing that their father was not going to let him take even the smallest possible weapon with him, even in an emergency, having to leave everything with the rest of his equipment.<br/>
But it was when he had looked at his reflection in the mirror for a moment, paying close attention to the image he was sending back, that Technoblade sighed slightly as he observed the fine braid in his hair being released again, which was a family sign. Philza, Tommy and even Wilbur had this little braid in their hair, hidden or not. It was like replacing a piece of jewelry or something to tie them together no matter what.<br/>
Maybe even on opposite sides.</p><p>It had the gift of giving him a slight smiling grin that disappeared almost immediately, gently regretting the time before.</p><p>"<em>Oi Blade-</em>" finally made a voice from the door of his room, the door having just been knocked as the man came to open it to let Tommy see him, smiling. He seemed really happy tonight. Probably because Wilbur was there, and they were all together, no doubt? "<em>Are you coming? Wilby is very close to-</em></p><p><em>- Wilby? Again?</em>" mocked the older brother, the younger one coming to blush with embarrassment at this mistake that seemed to happen to him quite a few times. "<em>Don't say that to his face, he'll be bothering you all night.</em>”</p><p>The younger one came out with a few insults, crossing his arms, something that amused the one facing him inside, the two brothers finally joined the last two of the family in the living rooms, Wilbur seeming to help Philza to settle down in his chair.</p><p>"<em>I take very good care of myself Will, I can handle myself very well you know!</em></p><p><em>- You're still the least fit of us.</em>" The one with the round glasses smiled softly as he brought the dishes to the table, to save Phil from having to make further efforts. "<em>I hope you're taking your medication properly!</em></p><p>
  <em>- Do you think I'm a child?</em>
</p><p><em>- We all know that you can be even worse than Tommy, so yes.</em>"</p><p>Tommy, who by the way had screamed when he heard this, ran to his brother to give him a blow in the shoulder before sitting down, the twins doing the same after a moment.</p><p>"<em>Seriously, take care of yourself, we're old enough to handle ourselves, even the kid.</em></p><p><em>- Hey! I'm not a kid!</em>" Tommy said, with his mouth full, his words struggling to be understood sometimes. "<em>I'm a man! A big man! Big T!</em>”</p><p>The three adults came rolling their eyes, each one amused or desperate, although Technoblade eventually spoke up.</p><p>"<em>The doctor said something? I saw in your notebook before I left that you had an appointment with him. Didn't you get tired along the way?</em>”</p><p>There was a silence from the man in the green kimono as Philza ate his meal quietly, at ease, enjoying the gentle silence of his sons waiting for his words and future answers.<br/>
He knew that his three sons had been particularly attentive with him since then. He was in his fifties and over, and had been getting more and more tired for more than fifteen years...of course, it was still very far from the time of his end, that was a fact.</p><p>"<em>...Sam simply explained to me that my legs would soon be unable to keep me standing.</em>" he said, the three sons expecting it. "<em>I met Darryl while I was coming back, you know, the nice florist? We chatted for a moment and finally called his partner to help me get home because my legs were no longer responding because of fatigue. Nothing crazy in the end but don't make those faces, it's kinda weirdchamp for me afterwards. I'm fine!</em>”</p><p>He had a slight laugh as he resumed his meal with envy. Oh how he loved cooking.</p><p>Technoblade and Wilbur exchanged glances, and for once he wasn't filled with hatred for the other, each came to look at their father, followed by Tommy, who had remained silent, knowing that it affected the younger one quite a bit. They loved their father, Tommy as much. He liked to joke about how old their "Dadza" was, but when reality hit him, it was still not very famous.</p><p>"<em>...if you say so.</em>”</p><p>Philza had already informed them about his health condition a few years ago. Phil was and is a very respected man in the city, having been involved in a lot of things, without taking any sides. He was the perfect figure of neutrality, appreciated by absolutely everyone. Even Schlatt had visited him a few times, and that was something. But the more time passed...the more his condition deteriorated. He was in constant demand, his fatigue getting quite high, and he loved to do his best to help everyone.</p><p>And unfortunately, one day in the middle of the mild spring months, during an attack by resistance fighters, one of the chiefs, filled with this thirst for blood, this desire to show their power...had afflicted a sword in Philza's back, touching his spine, the wound being quite deep. The man and his entire team had ended up losing to the militia, the man being taken to hospital, Wilbur and Techno, barely of age, with their mother and their little brother Tommy, who was nearly a year old, all worried while waiting for any results, any doctor who would come and tell them anything…<br/>
Sam, one of the best doctors in the City of L'Manburg, had finally come to see them after a few hours, reassuring them about the state of their father  -or husband to their mother-, saying that he would be fine, but that he would never be unharmed. His spinal column had suffered damage, which would play on time, which would gradually paralyze him with age and the efforts he would dare to make…</p><p>But Philza always smiled, reassuring his sons when the slightest thing could happen, time slowly erasing this wound, again…</p><p>That same year, Philza had lost his half, his wife, who had been executed for treason against the city. He had been sad, even very, more than anything else in the world...but never showed it to his sons or anyone else. Just keeping a smile on his face, remaining optimistic, no matter what.<br/>
Philza wanted to remain neutral, no matter which side, no matter what happened, no matter what was taken from her.</p><p>
  <strong>[But it was like a fall into hell.]</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>[For him it was like being an Angel of Death, a good man but who seemed to lose everything. He lived...but he suffered just as much.]</strong>
</p><p>It was easy to think that Philza hated the city after all. He hated the militiamen, he hated the regime in which they were all forced to be there...but he also hated the resistance fighters for their actions, although he could not blame them for fleeing.</p><p>It was because of this, that Technoblade had finally joined the Militia, to take his first steps in the L'Mantree, also called Nexus, in order to take his first steps...all this in order to protect his family, to protect Phil in case of a new attack, to protect Tommy, Wilbur too...<br/>
Then when Techno had passed the recruit stage, becoming a militiaman..Wilbur left the city, his desires being too contrary to his twin, wanting his own independence, his own flight, his own freedom…</p><p>Philza had lost his two sons at that very moment. He knew it, he felt it.<br/>
And yet they remained a family, though less united than before. Phil supported them no matter what path they took, not being able to hate anything for them, just wanting their happiness, but…</p><p>"<em>Phil?</em>"</p><p>The concerned one lifted up his head, having been lost in thought. </p><p>
  <strong>How much time had passed?</strong>
</p><p>He turned his face towards Tommy, who seemed worried, offering him a small smile, and then looked at the rest of the table...completely empty. The twins seemed to be absent.</p><p>"<em>Where are they?</em></p><p><em>- On the balcony, I don't advise you to join them, it's very tense there,</em>" replied the young son as he finished clearing the table, finally approaching his father to serve as a support, the man in a kimono thanking him in mid-word, getting up from his chair, not without difficulty, his legs trembling gently under the weakness. "<em>It's getting late Dadza, I'm taking you back to your room! We're going to watch a movie together!</em>”</p><p>This plan seemed to suit him, letting out a laugh before letting himself be led, looking out to the balcony for a moment, seeing the back silhouettes of the other two adults. But he quickly turned his attention to his young son, who already seemed to be debating what to look at.</p><p>On the balcony in question, Wilbur and Technoblade simply seemed to be getting some fresh air. No more, no less. Wilbur seemed to enjoy watching the moon, although half hidden by the clouds in the sky, Techno seemed to find the nearby lamp post very interesting as well, a duo of cats - no doubt those belonging to the neighbors - fighting with each other, even if it was just to play.</p><p>"<em>I'm surprised you still haven't thrown me over that balcony to get me out of there and probably shot me to get away.</em>” The Soot laughed, although not very serious in his remarks.</p><p>"<em>I would have liked to, but Phil would have grumbled if I showed up with a gun at the table, and especially if I dared to throw you out because it's late.</em></p><p>
  <em>- Technoblade, the great Superior of the militia who is easily defeated by his father and his power in a few words? Impressive!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- Don't dare say that, you're no better. Tommy even made fun of us earlier.</em>
</p><p><em>- ..That's true.</em>"</p><p>New silence, new quiet, soothing minutes... And a new sigh.</p><p>"<em>When are you leaving again?</em>" asked the pink, looking at his twin for a moment.</p><p>"<em>Hurried to see me decamp?</em>" teased Wilbur back before shrugging his shoulders. "<em>I can't tell you. I don't want to find myself with an army ready to surround me on D-Day because I told you my day of departure~ You--</em></p><p><em>- It's to find out how long I'll have to make sure I have alibis and organize myself to avoid running into you in town and having to be forced to stop you. That's why I'm asking.</em>” he sighed, bored, his twin seeming to have caught his attention when he heard this.</p><p>"<em>...I think you're a little too tired, you're not thinking straight. You work too much, go to sleep.</em></p><p><em>- Very funny, Will.</em>"</p><p>The two rolled their eyes in perfect synchronization.</p><p>"<em>No, seriously, why? Didn't you want to stop me? You know that's an act of betrayal for your fellow man, don't you?</em></p><p>
  <em>- I know it, and it's not the first time. I've let you off too many times already, or even Phil and Tommy for some of their actions, so it's a little too late to say I'm not a traitor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>- .... I really don't understand why you're part of this army of misfortune to protect this damn city if it's to be like a resistance fighter.</em>
</p><p><em>- ..you know very well why I joined them, Wilbur. For Phil, for Tommy. For us.</em>”</p><p>The red-eyed soldier finally got up with his hands from the balcony armrest, turning away to go back to the kitchen and make them some coffee, knowing that his brother wouldn't say no either.<br/>
They really needed it.</p><p>"<em>If Tommy wanted to join Pogtopia, what would you do?</em>”</p><p>The question froze the 'older' of the twins, as he turned to the other.</p><p>"<em>Bruh.</em>"</p><p>The answer had been very confused, not knowing what to say. He knew that Wilbur was right in the end, but...still…</p><p>"<em>As Phil would say, it's up to Tommy to make his choices, not us.</em></p><p><em>- ..Touché.</em>”</p><p>When the coffee had finished flowing, each one finished with their own cups, having even made two others, one of coffee and another of hot chocolate, putting the whole thing on a tray with some cookies …</p><p>"<em>Technoblade.</em>”</p><p>The person concerned glanced at them, which he quickly gave up as they entered the corridor leading to the rooms.</p><p>"<em>When the long-awaited day comes...don't count on me to give you a single moment's respite if you get in our way. Even as a brother.</em></p><p><em>- ..I expected it. Don't worry, it's shared.</em>" he replied simply in his low and annoyed tone, Wilbur smiling softly at that, knowing that the other was also repressing his own smile.</p><p>Their relationship was really weird, to be honest. Twin brothers? Enemies? They seemed to hate each other and yet they loved and protected each other. For each other, for them, for their family.</p><p>"<em>Can we join you?</em>” Wilbur said after knocking on the door of Philza's room, Tommy and he going to start their film after long moments on the best choice to make, Techno showing the set he was holding.</p><p>"<em>Helloooooo.</em>" he had done by simply putting the tray down and giving everyone their mugs, going to sit next to Phil, Wilbur going to his little brother, the two being much closer too.</p><p>It was a quiet moment, despite what the reality was really like.</p><p>They had watched the film in silence, sometimes making a few comments about everything and nothing, about the scenes and characters, or just telling Tommy to shut up because he was talking too much...<br/>
The four members of this sweet but heart-wrenching family had finally fallen asleep after half a second film, knowing that in the early morning, everything would return to the way it was before. Wilbur would keep a low profile, only returning home a few more times, Techno having to work while hiding what had just happened, Phil and Tommy continuing their own lives knowing not to say too much…</p><p>This family was really special, to tell you the truth.<br/>
But it was a united family, no matter what side they were on or what their ideals were.</p><p>In the soft night in the City of L'Manburg, while some figures were sleeping tight, resting, others seemed to be awake late for some reason, others were working...four figures, all separated, were having fun dancing in the shadows, each for their own reasons.</p><p>One, mask in the face, seemed to be monitoring and analyzing the night shift patrols, noting them in a small notebook.</p><p>Two others, seemingly younger, barely - or almost - of age, one with blue eyes and the other brown with soft orange reflections and white streaks...seemed to be acting for the same cause, seemingly walking around, looking for things, dropping things off, going to forbidden corners, hiding at every sound of footsteps or voices from possible militiamen, in the hope of not getting caught.</p><p>A last silhouette, in a white suit and a beret on his head, sunglasses in his face, seemed to have fun watching the house of Philza from the shadows. A house he had just seen things that would be more than useful to him in the future.</p><p>The night was then calm and peaceful for some.</p><p>But for others...<strong>it only seemed to be a sign of the beginning of hostilities.</strong></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Many unspoken things remain within these walls, even among the militia.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A surprising discovery raises some doubts among the members of the militia.<br/>This city hid too many things. Secrets, places, people.</p>
<p>Dream left a message to George and an unexpected little gift. He was looking forward to seeing him for their next coffee.</p>
<p>But the most powerful, having all the power in this place...were not gonna let things happen.</p>
<p>
  <strong>[Sometimes, the love we had for each other, in whatever form, could even go beyond the rules and prohibitions we give ourselves. Even an oath could not block this Love, no matter what happened.]</strong>
</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The day started well. Very well in fact.</p>
<p>Technoblade and George, each one still hiding their sweet secrets, met that very morning in front of the L'Mantree, entering it to prepare their equipment for the day, receive their patrol order from Eret... they had even taken advantage of their last minutes of respite to have a coffee to get through the day. In silence, of course. The two were not going to talk together as friends, because they were only colleagues. And not friends.<br/>As often now, and especially because of Technoblade, the duo had to patrol the dark alleys of the city. The forbidden passages, the areas not authorized to citizens…</p>
<p>At the beginning, this day was, as often, very calm. Almost soothing, with the citizens remaining upright, without breaking any rules ...</p>
<p>But as they found themselves in a restricted area, a totally abandoned and ruined part of the city, from the houses to the installations...having to look around and do their work...George and Technoblade heard a noise. Suddenly, without them expecting it. Like an object that had fallen from a high place, heavy and shattering on the ground in a noise almost unbearable for the ears if they would have been closer. They had heard footsteps resonating against the metal, the person probably wearing boots...no, there were more footsteps than that. They were not alone.<br/>Technoblade, on guard, grabbed the axe from his equipment belt as he slowly approached the area, unsure of himself, defensively...and as George held his taser to immobilize the culprit of such a ruckus, watching his teammate's back...and the latter, with a last step, ran directly towards the spot, pointing his weapon at...</p>
<p>"<em>A cat</em>.”</p>
<p>George was startled by the voice of his superior, holding back a laugh and thinking that they were really ridiculous.</p>
<p>All this for a cat? No, it was weird, almost abnormal.</p>
<p>They had heard footsteps, necessarily belonging to people, humans. <strong>Not a small cat.</strong><br/>It was just…</p>
<p>"<em>We should take this cat out of the area, shouldn't we? To avoid more problems on his part and end up having a real accident?</em>" he suggested anyway, the pink-haired one grimacing slightly as he turned away, mumbling a "<em>take him</em>", which the color-blind man did directly.</p>
<p>George observed the cat for a moment. It was sitting quietly on the floor, cleaning its paw. It was full of dust and cobwebs on its fur. It was all gray, but with two types of colors. He looked like a little grey tiger, he was adorable, and so small…</p>
<p>George loved cats. Of course, this was easily proven by having Luca or even Patches at home now, but he was able to argue at a very long time for them and show how much he loved them. He appreciated these distant and sometimes needy fur balls with hugs, affection... Spending his time playing, sleeping, eating and grooming…</p>
<p>God, this is a life he would have dreamed of too.</p>
<p>So, lost in thought as they both left the area, or at least pretended to, in order to quickly return to it once the people to whom these footsteps belonged came out of hiding thinking they were gone, George inadvertently ran into Technoblade's back as he quickly apologized before raising an archway at the reason for such a stop.<br/>In front of them was a young man with orange-brown, almost reddish-brown hair and white locks, his face pale, almost worried.</p>
<p>"<em>What's going on?</em>" said the one in the shiny black armor, the youngster, who could be likened to a teenager or a young adult around eighteen years old, seemed out of breath from running for some reason.<br/>Slowly, he took a breath, took a stable breathe in order to articulate his words well and…</p>
<p>"<em>H-he told me to come and get you...I..I met him in town and we talked a little bit together and then he fell down and then-</em>"</p>
<p>He stopped, looking panicked, not knowing what to do. What was he talking about?</p>
<p>"<em>Calm down, breathe calmly, everything is fine.</em>” George encouraged George with a compassionate smile, although he knew his teammate would soon get impatient taking so much time. "<em>What's your name? Who told you to come and get the Superior?</em>”</p>
<p>The youngster glanced at the recruit, staring at the cat in his arms for a few seconds, seeming to calm down before taking a heavy breath, although we could see that it did not get better easily.</p>
<p>“<em>My name is Fundy, I'm...well...that...it was Zak who came and...</em></p>
<p><em>- Skeppy?</em>" Techno said, frowning. It wasn't his time to work, we were in the middle of the day though. <strong>He wouldn't call without an emergency.</strong></p>
<p>"<em>Yes! Yes ! He told me to look for you because gran- y-your father is in his house and he's-</em></p>
<p><em>- Couldn't you have said that directly?!</em>" scolded the older man, Fundy squealed as the superior passed him, already walking towards Darryl's store, where the couple lived. "<em>Stay here and search him, George!</em>”</p>
<p>Quickly obeying, George gave the teenager a small apologetic smile for his partner's reaction, while, after a slight request during their walk, Fundy agreed to carry the little cat that always seemed so quiet with humans, just to free the hands of the recruit in case of need or danger, always having to watch the area.</p>
<p>In the end, it was after a completely normal search, without any problem that George let the one with the locks of white hair leave, this one taking the little cat with him, promising George that he would take him to a place where he would be safe and loved.<br/>Fundy seemed very nice by the way. He recovered quickly from his emotions, like an adult, and was able to adapt quickly so as not to frighten the cat or bother George. It was those little things that made him work more efficiently, and he damn well preferred that to a citizen crying or showing disrespect or moving around all the time.<br/>George had then finished and sighed as he stood in front of the entrance to the area, preventing anyone from entering...or leaving.</p>
<p>For Technoblade, the walk was fast, and without even losing a moment to knock or anything, Technoblade had opened the florist's door, Skeppy, aka Zak, finding himself alone inside, looking worried, raising his head directly to his friend when he heard him.</p>
<p>"<em>Techno! Finally ! You took a fucking long time!</em></p>
<p><em>- Where's Phil?</em>" he asked directly, worried as Darryl entered the store room, coming out of the back door, giving the militiaman a sorry little smile.</p>
<p>"<em>We're waiting for Sam and Ponk to come and see if there's no emergency and take him home to rest. He's fine, he's just very tired. Stress too, I guess.</em></p>
<p><em>- Stress?</em>"</p>
<p>He repeated this, puzzled, though slightly relieved that Philza was not in great danger.</p>
<p>
  <strong>That would have been catastrophic.</strong>
</p>
<p>"<em>His condition deteriorates a lot with time Techno...you should really have him kept at home every day or not leave him alone.</em></p>
<p><em>- It's not easy when I'm working during the day, when Tommy is in class or playing in the City, and I don't even talk about the last one since he's not even here anymore.</em>”</p>
<p>Skeppy bit his lip, exchanging with his lover a look that meant everything. Technoblade knew what they were saying to each other without even speaking.</p>
<p>"<em>You know he's here, don't you?</em>”</p>
<p>Darryl had a jolt, played with the sleeves of his hoodie for a moment, searching for his words before sighing, running a hand through his hair.</p>
<p>"<em>Almost everyone knows, but no one says anything. Wilbur is literally a friend of ours, like so many others here...no one would dare tell on him.</em></p>
<p><em>- You know that if someone like Eret knows, it could be very dangerous for both of you, right?</em>”</p>
<p>Skeppy releasing a frustrated grunt, rolling his eyes.</p>
<p>"<em>As if we didn't already know it. But it's not going to happen, and that goes for you too, judging by your reactions. You know he's in town and you didn't say anything.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>- I'm doing this for Phil and Tommy.</em>
</p>
<p><em>- Yes, of course, so I'm straight then !</em>” Ironically says the shortest of them all. "<em>Just say it's because you love your twin, it'll go faster already !</em></p>
<p><em>- Don't get into things you don't know about, Skeppy.</em>”</p>
<p>The cold voice had a way of making Bad react, who approached his lover to stop him from saying anything else that might upset the other.</p>
<p>"<em>Sorry about Zak...you know how he is.</em>”</p>
<p>Zak who had no trouble showing his annoyance, crossing his arms and finally leaving the room, not very happy.</p>
<p>Naturally, Technoblade felt slightly sorry for his "friend", but did not do anything about it, not very good at this kind of thing.</p>
<p><em>"I'll take care of him, don't worry. The others are coming for Phil, you should go back to work, you'll see him tonight.</em>”</p>
<p>Work. <em>Shit</em>, he had totally forgotten.</p>
<p>Without wasting a single second, he quickly greeted Darryl before taking the path to the exit of the flower store, jostling a small character with brown hair and a colorful sweatshirt -knowing that it was Karl, having often met him at the library when everyone was studying when they were younger-, quickly apologizing by mumbling a few words and continuing his walk as if nothing had happened.</p>
<p>Then Technoblade returned to the entrance of the area where he had left the recruit, alone. It was something he was not supposed to do on the base, leaving a recruit by himself, let alone in a forbidden place, the urgency for his father having put his family instincts before his duty, but...George was improving fast, learning fast, the pink-haired one knew very well that the young man would have no trouble staying alone for a fraction of a minute. <br/>But when he turned a last corner one last time to get to the entrance of the area...Technoblade noticed that there was no one in front.</p>
<p>Even worse when he approached...George didn't seem to be there anymore. Watching the place, being with that little gray cat he had in his arms, doing his job and waiting for his return, having to stay in place like any recruit who received a waiting order…</p>
<p>Technoblade raised an arcade, advancing in the area before perceiving a shape in one of the ruined corners of an old house, totally inert, it did not move. He could see the top of his partner's helmet near the wall in one corner. Removed. No body was connected to this helmet, the anxiety gnawing at him that more so that it was abnormal.</p>
<p>"<em>Recruit?</em>" called the one with the slightly red eyes, frowning, this does not tell him anything worthwhile. No response.</p>
<p>But when he was finally close enough to see something that made his blood boil with rage and anguish, suddenly his walkie-talkie had an alert, Tubbo's voice echoing from the device.</p>
<p>"<em>This is Tubbo from the B-team with Ranboo! General power cut in the City! We're on our way to the hatch and the exit! Need reinforcements for the citizens and the ramparts!</em>”</p>
<p>
  <strong>Oh no.</strong>
</p>
<p>The lights of the whole city went out, plunging the city into a darker atmosphere than usual, as he dropped an insult by the turn of the day.</p>
<p>Oh no, no, and <strong>no</strong>.</p>
<p>Without further ado, he took his device in hand, looking at the basic inert body, although still fortunately alive, as he began to speak after having given his number.</p>
<p>"<em>Here’s Techno, I have the recruit George on the ground, knocked out by someone. Please continue the operation without us, I'm taking him back to the Nexus. Over.</em>”</p>
<p>As Ranboo, Tubbo, Punz and the other militiamen came to approve the message, still worried and on guard that one of their colleagues had been knocked out, Technoblade watched George's body, followed by the weapon of mischief, a baseball bat that he knew all too well where it came from...and that his gaze was suddenly captured by an abnormal light source in one corner of the ruined house.</p>
<p>And while his blood was almost boiling from the almost incomprehensible emotions that were running through him...everything suddenly fell back, becoming cold as hell as he changed the frequency of his device, stooping down to George at the same time to straighten him up and check for further serious injuries.</p>
<p>"<em>Eret, here Technoblade, from Team C. Can you hear me?</em>”</p>
<p>He was silent for a few seconds before hearing the Commander speak.</p>
<p>"<em>Eret here, what's going on? I am waiting for you at the city to check the state of the recruit George.</em></p>
<p><em>- I'm going to need you here, we have a problem. And I can't do both on my own.</em>”</p>
<p>Eret let a silence pass, while the Superior knew very well that he was already on his way to join them, waiting for the one with the pink hair to continue speaking.</p>
<p>"<em>The recruit has just found a new passage to the exit of the City.</em>”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"<em>A hole in the wall that can let people through without any worries…</em>" sighed Ranboo as he found himself in the break room of the L'Mantree with a few colleagues, including Technoblade, each of them having finished their shift. "<em>And they dare to call it a well-guarded city where no one can leave..</em></p>
<p><em>- If Commander Eret could hear you, y-you..</em>" Tubbo attempted to do so, but was quickly silenced by Nihachu.</p>
<p>"<em>This is not normal, and Eret surely suspects that people think such things, Tubbo. He's in front of the new breach with Schlatt and Foolish -the official architect of the City and its walls- anyway, no one can hear us. A power outage just at that moment when George is being knocked out right at that new exit. There is no doubt that more people ran out.</em></p>
<p><em>- Speaking of George, here... what happened Techno?</em>”</p>
<p>Ranboo's question slightly tensed him up, before he took a long sigh, taking a sip of his latte.</p>
<p>"<em>We were patrolling together as always, and I had to separate myself from him for a moment because a kid came to see me to tell me that Philza had a problem in town.</em>”</p>
<p>The others came to be surprised, all of a sudden worried about the man in the green kimono. Everyone loved Philza and the aura he carried with him. That of a father who helped everyone.</p>
<p>"<em>...Skeppy was there that moment and called Sam and Ponk to take care of him. I only stayed a few minutes before returning to the patrol area and the rookie was no longer at the entrance. I finally spotted his helmet which was on the ground and the alert went straight down when I found his body on the ground.</em>”</p>
<p>Puffy seemed to let out a grunt disturbed by the situation, running a hand through her white hair, detaching it after removing her helmet as she watched her own coffee in turn.</p>
<p>"<em>Eret is going to be furious when she hears about this...even though Phil is a major emergency, he and the duty doesn't change, he's.…</em></p>
<p><em>- I'm going to get killed even more when I have to tell him that it was my little brother who ran away from the City and knocked the kid out.</em>”</p>
<p>Ranboo, who then enjoyed the sweet taste of his drink, just like Connor, both choked when they heard this, the blue-eyed one exclaiming suddenly.</p>
<p>"<em>Seriously?! What the fuck man ! How do you know that? After Wilbur and Phil's basic behavior and now this, you're going to get in trouble!</em></p>
<p><em>- How do you know it was Tommy who ran away ?</em>" Ranboo asked afterwards, puzzled as Technoblade let out a sigh.</p>
<p>"<em>The weapon that knocked George out was a baseball bat. Which was in his bedroom and had his initials on it. I don't know what's going to happen, but I don't even want to know either.</em></p>
<p><em>- Do you think Wilbur has already left the City again?</em>” Niki finally did in a question that seemed to surprise no one.</p>
<p>Yes, everyone really knew that Wilbur was there, everywhere. <em><strong>And no one said anything.</strong></em></p>
<p>"<em>If Tommy's gone, it's possible, yes. But I’m not sure...He wouldn't leave for something like this-</em></p>
<p><em>- And what about Dream, then?</em>"</p>
<p>Puffy's question now snatched a grunt out of some people, all confused by it, Technoblade even running a hand over his face as he thought about it.</p>
<p>"<em>We don't know. But some citizens say they still sometimes come across him in the streets. But no trace. I think he is Wilbur's pathfinder, the one who watches over the city while he is not there. But he must not be the only one, that's for sure.</em>”</p>
<p>Saying this, Technoblade glanced at Tubbo as he was suddenly tense, the stress seeming to take him over.</p>
<p>He was right, absolutely right.</p>
<p>
  <strong>But how did he...?</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"<em>Anyway, we'll have to wait until the next meeting tomorrow to find out how things are going.</em>” Connor finally added, having paid no attention to the rest, or almost no one else, as he went to throw his empty cup away and picked up his helmet. <em>"I go home to rest a bit, I have a game night with Charlie and others at the house of Karl, Quackity and Sapnap soon!</em>”</p>
<p>Game night that meant he was going to participate in the new Fight Club night under the polyamorous couple's store, actually.</p>
<p>However, those who knew about it didn't say anything about it, wishing him a good evening as if nothing had happened, everyone going to do the same.</p>
<p>Technoblade was the last one with Ranboo to hand in their reports of the day, as they walked the halls to see George in the infirmary, who had just woken up according to Quackity when he was about to leave for home as well.</p>
<p>"<em>So, um...</em>" wanted to try Ranboo, quickly stopped by the other one.</p>
<p>"<em>You know about Tubbo, right?</em>” Techno asked with a glance, the black and white haired one letting out a sigh, knowing he was going to tell him that.</p>
<p>"<em>...yeah. By having him on patrol with me, I noticed something about him. He seems to know too much for his age...and has been through too many things, too, for some reason. The way he reacts when we talk about Wilbur or Tommy, or when you said that Dream wasn't the only pathfinder in L'Manburg...he can't lie with his body. He can lie with his brain, but the rest of him can't.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>- ...Well observed. You really deserve your role as Superior, here. You're still not back on the night shift, by the way?</em>
</p>
<p><em>- I'm doing both right now, or doing half days and half nights afterwards. Between recruit training and all the rest...luckily I'm not a big sleeper.</em>”</p>
<p>Technoblade shrugged his shoulders as he heard it.</p>
<p>"<em>Eret should avoid doing that, even I don't have such a rhythm, Skeppy even less. You're very good in the daytime role you know, the night shift has enough people, especially when Skeppy is going to be moving up a rank soon.</em></p>
<p><em>- I'll see with the Commander once things settle down a bit.</em>” Ranboo finally smiled as the two arrived in front of the infirmary, revealing George as he finished putting on his work boots, raising his head to the other two. "<em>Come on Sleeping Beauty, it's time to go home !</em></p>
<p>
  <em>- ...am I really going to have the two Superiors to escort me home? Really ? I only got knocked out, there's no need to make a big deal out of it.</em>
</p>
<p><em>- You found out something important, so there is. If the resistance fighters still here want to eliminate you for discovering their passage,</em>" said Techno with a sigh. "<em>You'll probably be called to Schlatt's office soon for this, by the way.</em></p>
<p><em>- ...great.</em>”</p>
<p>The three characters came sighing in unison, George finally getting a ride home, greeting the other two as each went their own way, all tired in a different way.</p>
<p>But when George passed the doorstep of his apartment, he first saw his cats, lying together on the couch, while a certain detail sent a bad shiver down his spine, surprised.<br/>There was Luca, Patches...and a third little cat purring in between. A small tiger cat with shades of grey. The same little cat he had given earlier to a young man named Fundy and then he...-</p>
<p>
  <strong>How did he...?</strong>
</p>
<p>His gaze quickly found itself scanning the room before a blue post-it captured his hazelnut look, coming closer and taking him in hand, directly recognizing this writing he knew too well.</p>
<p>'<em><strong>'Wilbur's son came to see me with this little cat earlier. He had told me that it was you who had given it to him, and was looking for a new owner.<br/>I thought that you would be the best person to own this little kitten, because I am sure that you were already ready to keep him just by seeing him for the first time if you weren't working at that time. <br/>Take care of him. See you in a few days for a coffee.<br/>Get some rest after what happened.<br/>See you later kitten ;)</strong></em></p>
<p><em><strong>- Dream :)</strong></em>’’</p>
<p>"<em>He could have stayed a little while to see me so frankly...and kitten ? What an idiot.</em>” George sighed as he blushed at the pet name, although reassured that no one had broken into his house with bad intentions.</p>
<p>Without thinking, he threw away the post-it after being sure that he had torn it apart to avoid the slightest evidence against him and his link with Dream, and finally went to change after a good shower and settle down with the three cats he had at home now, even finding a name for the new kid he called only Cat, being little inspired at the time.</p>
<p>Finally, while the City of L'Manburg was active and alert for the most part that night, George had a peaceful rest, falling asleep next to his furry little companions, silencing the sad feeling of loneliness that was gripping him when he thought of Dream who had passed by here without even waiting to greet him for even a few minutes.</p>
<p>And while he was falling into a restful sleep, Tubbo had not been able to sleep that day, the gaze of Technoblade having haunted his mind.</p>
<p>On the other hand, another character with brown hair and a thick brown jacket was enjoying watching the fights that were taking place in a certain basement made for that purpose, smiling softly to the cheers of the people who had come to bet their fighters, spotting only the strongest ones for the rest of their adventure, following each time the suggestions of the man with the white bandana and the one with the deep blue beanie who was hiding his hair, enjoying their presence with trust.</p>
<p>In yet another place, a smiling figure in a white mask was having fun following the members of the militia in the shadows, himself smiling softly, seeming satisfied to see that he had succeeded in his mission with success.</p>
<p>Finally, while in a comfortable neighborhood where a family lived far too separately, Technoblade had walked silently through his front door, the whole house being empty of light. And above all: Empty of people. Philza hadn't been taken home, and was probably in the hospital at the time, the militiaman's anxiety keeping him awake all night.<br/>This anxiety that he carried for his father, his little brother who had left without saying anything, his twin with whom he couldn't even get angry.</p>
<p>For some, that night was the hardest night of their life.</p>
<p>But for Eret and Schlatt, their sparkling gaze had been reflected in each other's, the same idea having gone through them in turn, really wanting to show their power and control over the rest of the world.</p>
<p>"<em>Hello Philza, it's been a while, hasn't it?</em>" said one of the two as they looked at the tired body of the old man lying on a hospital bed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. The smell of coffee makes us dream, sometimes. The music too.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While he waited for the time to pass, walking between the streets of the City while waiting for his convocation at the office of Schlatt....A certain street caught his eye. And the glow of a certain bar's entrance too.</p>
<p>But as he was about to enjoy another cup of coffee, all alone...he never thought that things would turn out like this.</p>
<p>The music was quiet, the time was slow.<br/>But he and his mind were going full speed now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <strong>[It was not the right time.]</strong></p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His shoe hit the deformed pebble again and it was propelled in front of him on his way, walking a few more steps before starting his movement again, until the small rock coming from the natural earth was out of his field of vision, his only entertainment disappearing.</p>
<p>Silent, he brought a hand in his brown hair, sweeping some strands with small ebony glows that could be seen reflected in the strong light of the sun that seemed to have fun to change so drastically the weather in company of his friend the snow, by the way. These locks of hair in question were removed so that they did not obstruct his gaze, his next movement was his hand that moved to the back of his head, gently tapping a place that tore him a hiss of pain held between his teeth, telling himself that the hit he had taken the day before could really have been worse.</p>
<p>In his other hand was a small portable thermos that he held in front of his chest, a light white steam escaping from the small opening he held to drink as he waited for his coffee inside to cool slightly so as not to burn his tongue. And especially to appreciate the sweet taste of coffee mixed with sugar, milk, and the slight aroma of caramel that he sometimes allowed himself to add for his greatest happiness, him appreciating sweet treats, no matter how small they might be.</p>
<p>But George, although he was greatly enjoying the calm and mild weather, neither too hot nor too cold, or even the simple smell of his drink...still let out a resigned, bored sigh, shaking his shoulders as if taken by a shiver as he continued his peaceful walk, having almost nothing else to do but kill time.</p>
<p>Eret had made it clear: no more work for the next few days after the attack he had taken. Rest is necessary. The Commander had even called it an "assault", something he didn't like too much, the term seemed too big.</p>
<p>After all, he had <strong>only</strong> been hit in the head with a baseball bat after a blond figure and a man with blue glasses and a color he couldn't see  -probably red from what he remembered- but he could tell it was red because he wasn't sure. It had made him think of 3D glasses, trying to put an image of these young men who had taken him by surprise. Young men, yes. They didn't even look like they were in their twenties, necessarily less. He had only been taken by surprise, put on the ground, the helmet forcibly removed, and a simple blow from a weapon he could not remember, and hop, the trick was done.</p>
<p>The day before, when he was being escorted out by the two superiors, Technoblade and Ranboo, they had explained to him that he had simply found a new way out of the city. This explained the action of these two people in this case. And just for that, George couldn't even blame them. He just shrugged, and if someone would dare to ask him if he was upset, his neutral and bored face meant everything: No, he didn't care.<br/>
Because he would have done the same, actually. In fact, he should be glad that he didn't get shot and just knocked out. </p>
<p>But in the end he was there, wandering between the streets of L'Manburg in order to pass the time, so bored was he. Luckily for him, he sometimes met his colleagues, and Nihachu had even taken advantage of the calm of this day to spend a few minutes chatting with him, until she had to leave the area to resume her patrol with Puffy and Callahan for example. And fortunately, that had the gift to occupy him a little.</p>
<p>George had taken the opportunity to do some shopping for the week, for himself and the three cats who lived in his apartment, and even a little more than usual if Clay wanted to come and crash at his place too. Hoping to really run into him of course, even if he went back the next day and left him alone without saying anything except to leave a stupid post-it note that always had a slight effect on him according to the terms and words he used about him. Again.</p>
<p>His gaze passed to one of the many clocks in the city, holding back a sigh as he saw that time was still passing so slowly, and that he still had far too many hours to kill before his convocation.</p>
<p>Stupid convocation, by the way. Schlatt wanted to see him, for his discovery and his condition, and oh that George knew he would have to hold back his disgust as he felt the great Dictator pretend to be concerned about his condition, though he would compliment him with open arms for his discovery. Damn discovery.</p>
<p>He had literally, in spite of himself, given one of the passages -or the only one- to the exit of L'Manburg without danger for the Resistance after all. He was bound to get praise for such a thing, for it was only to their advantage. The enemy had an advantage, and they had an extra card, already ready to bet all their chips as in a poker game to win the jackpot against their opponents nothing to show who will be the most powerful.</p>
<p>…</p>
<p>George was not even surprised to think that he would have preferred that the militia never discovered this passage, that it remained open, and that, instead, the resistance kept such a good advantage. Especially if, for example, Dream used this passage, thus putting him in less danger.<br/>
<strong>This was very important to him.</strong></p>
<p>But while he was about to turn in an umpteenth street in order to continue his road, his glance could not help but linger for a moment on a precise alley, so known and borrowed by him with the time. The one which took especially every month, during a secret appointment with a certain man with a mask wanted by absolutely all the City.</p>
<p>He couldn't help himself. George had not been able to prevent himself from walking in this alley, from entering the bar that offered him such a warm atmosphere, the bell whose melody he appreciated resounding in his ears when he had passed the threshold of the entrance door, or even when he sat down on his usual table, after having ordered a coffee, totally ignoring the one that was in his thermos, forsaking him and his so little unique taste compared to the one here…</p>
<p>A steaming mug was placed in front of him after a moment, greeting the owner with a smile, enjoying the gentle calm of the place which was rather empty in the middle of the day. Only music was playing in the background, not making the silence awkward.</p>
<p>"<em>Excuse me?</em>" he finally heard, slowly looking up at the person who had just let his voice ring out to call him.</p>
<p>This man seemed to be trying to get his attention for a little while, seeing his eyebrows frowned with confusion, almost with worry. How long was he waiting? Was he calling her? How long had he been here, even?</p>
<p>His mug no longer had that thick white smoke, remaining thin and small now. Probably a good fifteen minutes, at most.</p>
<p>"<em>Sir?</em>" called the stranger one more time, as he cut off his thoughts to finally answer this one.</p>
<p>"<em>Yes?</em>" replied the colorblind man, raising an eyebrow before looking embarrassed. "<em>Sorry, I was just thinking. Is there anything you need?</em>"</p>
<p>The man in front of him smiled, as he pointed to the chair in front of him, seeming to ask mutely if he could take the seat, George agreeing, and not being able to refuse actually, although he didn't understand why this man wanted to come to this seat and not to literally every other free seat in the bar.</p>
<p>"<em>Thanks. This table was kind of the one I used to take, when I came often, in the past.</em></p>
<p><em>- ...The past?</em>"</p>
<p>The gaze of the man facing him turned to the tables that were right next to them, George taking the opportunity to detail the face of the latter.</p>
<p>He seemed older than he was, still retaining a certain youthfulness, though you could see that his face was sharply firm and trim, showing that he was still a man of good build who had lived through quite a bit.<br/>
He had soft brown eyes, quite dark, almost giving the appearance of reflecting a painful emotion that was sadness and remorse. His hair was also brown, of a more golden brown tone, even in the icy brown, only a large slightly curly lock shading his face, splendid face -George could not deny that this man was physically attractive-, the rest of his hair hidden by a beanie of a color that he could not define. Probably a shade of red mixed with dark pink? He could not say it.</p>
<p>In any case, the sudden silence he had laid down since his curious question seemed to be made of gold, George remaining silent, patient, even looking away in turn at the sweet paintings, not being able to hold back a smile when he saw them, loving himself to contemplate them again and again, no matter how many times he had been here.</p>
<p>"<em>What do you feel, when you see these two paintings?</em>" The stranger finally asked, turning his gaze back to George. He seemed more curious, calculating. His gaze could almost pierce you, making you answer his question, unable to refuse.</p>
<p>This man was <strong>mesmerizing</strong>. Where did he really come from? How had he not come across him before? </p>
<p>Was he like Clay before, before Dream, like a hermit staying home all the time and going out when the fewest people could see you? Was he just the type to keep a low profile because of his stature?</p>
<p>Was he a resistance fighter? Who had left town and come back, stuck here because of his fault, because of the breach he had found?</p>
<p>Was he there to kill him? Had he approached him just for that?</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>"Well?"</em> </strong>
</p>
<p>The almost amused but yet eager tone brought him back down to earth once again, seeming to give him a cold shower. Was he making too many films? No doubt.</p>
<p>"<em>... It's a complex question, I have to admit.</em>" confessed the smaller of the two, seeming to regain composure so as not to scare himself with mere abusive thoughts. "<em>The first; Maybe oppression, suffocation, dreaming. I know there's red on this painting, so probably passion, too. The artist was passionate, but something was choking him in his journey, who knows? Maybe he was prevented from living his dream properly, maybe he was blocked? I can't say.</em></p>
<p><em>- And the second one?</em>"</p>
<p>George observed the second painting in question, seeming to choose his words meticulously, resuming after a breath.</p>
<p>"<em>Letting go, I would say. Succumbing to the passion he holds so much. As if he let it explode, too tired to hold it back for so long. It was ecstatic for him, his expression meant everything. Maybe it was a way to show what he was capable of when he realized this? ''Maybe I was Boring'', thinking he was boring but in reality...</em></p>
<p><em>- Was it everything around him that was boring?</em>" made the man finishing his sentence, having found the thing he wanted to express, confirming him with a nod of the head, making him sketch a slight smile. "<em>That's a nice way to think, you have a good way of expressing thoughts through art, although you-</em></p>
<p>
  <em>- That I can't see all the colors?</em>
</p>
<p><em>- ..indeed, yes. I find it all the more impressive.</em>"</p>
<p>George seemed to hold back one of his eyebrows as he heard her, this character offering a whole bunch of questions in his head. What was going on, exactly?</p>
<p>"<em>What about you?</em>" he had been able to prevent himself from asking, the other with the eyes veiled of shade returning the glance to him, waiting the end of his sentence. "<em>What do you think of these paintings then?</em>"</p>
<p>A few seconds of soft silence passed for a moment before a light laugh passed between the older man's teeth, his eyebrow really raising this time, confused by this.</p>
<p>"<em>Some points of view have to remain silent, you know? These paintings mean so much after all, but at the same time...so little.</em></p>
<p><em>- This is normal, isn't it? After all, only the musician, the artist of these paintings knows the true meaning, right?</em>"</p>
<p>His answer had come out of instinct, without even thinking, as long as it was just...a given, for him. It was normal, logical, a principle, borderline.<br/>
But when a long silence settled between the two, and the words of the stranger came softly play like puzzle pieces...</p>
<p>
  <strong>Oh.</strong>
</p>
<p>"<em>Oh.</em>" was all he could say, taken aback. "It's you.. the- um..'The' Musician of the City."</p>
<p>... The man on the second board in the shades of gray looked exactly like him, now that he was paying attention. He just looked younger. And without a beanie.</p>
<p>The musician had another laugh, very pure, quite beautiful even. He seemed amused that he had stuck it out so quickly, finally just shrugging.</p>
<p>"<em>These paintings are so bland and sad when I see them again; I have to say that you described some of the details quite well when the word was yours..it makes me feel better that such emotions manage to get through, that was what I was looking for.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>- Do you come here often to see them again? You...well- I never thought I would meet you, I wanted to so much, when I was contemplating your work...listening to you sing. You were very well known in the City, weren't you?</em>
</p>
<p><em>- I come when I have the opportunity. Although this is the first time I've found myself talking to anyone about it, to be honest. My music faded away when it found itself too stifled within these walls. Being known remained a detail, expressing my music was the only thing that mattered to me.</em>"</p>
<p>George seemed to be concentrating on his amber drink, thinking about his words, before seeming more intrigued. He held back a shiver that could have run down his spine, held back a sigh that could have betrayed him of the slightest stress he held within. Was this man...?</p>
<p>"<em>..can you express your music better now, outside these walls?</em>"</p>
<p>The man in the beanie smiled wider at the words, almost satisfied by what he had just heard.</p>
<p>"<em>More than ever.</em>" he admitted then without even hesitating, resuming directly. "<em>And then? Are you then going to arrest me, since you know that I don't really live here anymore?</em>"</p>
<p>The question seemed to be heavy with meaning all of a sudden. ''<em>Are you going to do your duty and arrest me, as a loyal member of the militia? Or are you going to leave freedom to those who have earned it, and betray your oath for what you think is right?</em>''</p>
<p>George had finally shrugged.</p>
<p>"<em>I'm not working right now so...it's not my problem, just a chance meeting.</em></p>
<p><em>- Your oath doesn't require you to arrest all the enemies of the City though, George?</em>"</p>
<p>His name that had just passed the lips of the other was like an explosion in his body. His tone seemed to give the air that seemed to know everything about him. Not just his name, not just the fact that he was a militiaman..but absolutely his entire life.</p>
<p>"<em>I simply have no interest in doing this. I'm a militiaman because of family duty, but my judgment remains my own. And if I deem it unnecessary to have to arrest you here and now, then I don't see why I should do what I wouldn't want to.</em>"</p>
<p>An ''Hm'' crossed the taller man's lips. He was well and truly satisfied with his answer.</p>
<p>"<em>Wilbur Soot.</em>"</p>
<p>George gasped. That name was on the lips of the tallest of the militia far too often, like Eret. This name was known throughout the entire city, this man, who left at such a young age, leaving his loved ones behind, to become the greatest existing leader the world had ever known, engraved in history just for his presence, his genius plans, his person too.</p>
<p>"<em>Why are you-?</em></p>
<p><em>- I just wanted to introduce myself, since I already knew your identity, George. As a matter of courtesy, don't you think that's a fair thing to do?</em>"</p>
<p>George made himself swallow his saliva in one gulp, seeming to become very small in his seat as he slowly realized who was facing him. It wasn't just a good-looking stranger, not just a musician he'd always wanted to hear at least once, no. No, no. This was Wilbur Soot, THE most wanted man in the whole world, in this City and all the others combined.</p>
<p>"<em>I..you..W-why have you come to talk to me? To tell me your identity? You- you are taking a lot of risks to be here, to talk to me ! And- </em></p>
<p><em>-  I know you won't do anything to have me arrested. You have no interest in that, do you?</em>" smiled the so-famous Wilbur as he straightened up a bit in his chair. "<em>To tell you the truth, I just wanted to apologize for the mess my little brother made. He and Jack panic very quickly, and the hit certainly went off without thinking first.</em>"</p>
<p>Of course the little blonde boy -or the loud kid who annoyed everyone in town and who was the brother of Technoblade and Wilbur AND Philza's son- reminded him of something. It was so blurry, but yet it was obvious now.</p>
<p>"<em>I would have thought you would have left the City with your brother, as everyone else does too, to be honest....</em></p>
<p><em>- Tommy is old enough, and I trust whoever is with him to get him safely back to where he wanted to go so badly. Dream and I still have some work to do before we can go again.</em>"</p>
<p>If George wanted to imitate a statue right now, he would have been perfect.</p>
<p>His breath had caught at the name of the man who was making his head spin so much and gnawing away at him with worry.</p>
<p>"<em>But you know, with our little talk, I was wondering...</em>"</p>
<p>George had his hands resting on his legs, his fingernails gently digging into his thighs through his pants, already seeming to apprehend what he would say next.</p>
<p>"<strong> <em>Would you like to join Pogtopia too?</em> </strong>"</p>
<p>When the door of the bar finally closed behind George after what seemed like hours, the young soldier took a long breath, immediately followed by a very big sigh, looking exhausted.</p>
<p>Finally walking with firm steps towards the L'Mantree, wanting to finish his day as quickly as possible, George tried to close in a corner of his mind the pile of things that were rushing at him.</p>
<p>"<em>Take all the time you want. We'll be waiting for you with open arms !</em>" Wilbur had told him with the biggest of smiles after he had shared his thoughts with him. </p>
<p>Dream was waiting for him. Freedom was offered to him, like on a silver platter. He could accept without even thinking about it, follow the Resistants, follow Dream, the one he could believe in even if he was blind, in order to finally enjoy what he had always mutely dreamed of.</p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>But it just wasn't the time yet.</em> </strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
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